


Markings Made on My Skin

by Gryffindancer



Series: Marked by Fate [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, BAMF Darcy Lewis, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Protective Bucky Barnes, SHIELD Agent Darcy Lewis, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Smut, Soulmates, WinterShock - Freeform, ducky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-07-22 05:02:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 42,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7420972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gryffindancer/pseuds/Gryffindancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All he ever remembered was the cold and the pain of being wiped.<br/>Her whole life she had never understood the welts that would appear on her skin for no reason, or the painful migraines that would come on without warning.</p><p>The story of how they both found something to fight for.<br/>[AU Soulmates]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my favoritest humans!
> 
> I’m so excited to finally be posting this story that has basically completely and totally taken over my life for the past month and a half :D
> 
> This story is based on a prompt from the amazing and completely lovely HKThauer. I would share the prompt itself, but in the words of River Song, spoilers sweetie ;) But I’ll summarize with this: Darcy + Bucky = Soulmates. Please note, this story is NOT going to be Civil War compliant.  
> Also, a ginormous thank you to uconnhuskiesfan_wintershockship for taking a look at this story to help make sure my Bucky sounds like Bucky, and to help me figure out where to break things up!  
> Ugh, you guys are seriously the best <3
> 
> The title is from the song _Doubt_ , by Twenty One Pilots.

The only thing he ever remembered consistently was the cold.

When they woke him up, he was always freezing. It was the kind of cold that you’re never quite able to shake. The kind of cold that seeps into your joints, that you can feel in your bones, even hours later, even in suffocating heat. There was one mission in Miami -- he was camped out on a rooftop under the blazing September sun. He stayed there all day, and even after the sun began setting, perched on that blistering gravel roof with his rifle -- barely breathing, barely blinking. Just waiting for the target to fall directly within his line of sight.

Hours in the heat and humidity and he could still feel the chill in his toes, even through the ripping pain when they wiped him and put him back in cryo.

He sometimes remembered flickers of things. Just whispers of memories...Were they memories? Feelings from before the Soldier, before the Asset. He couldn’t be sure. There was no way to know. But for some reason, he grasped at those ghosts of images, and scents, and sounds, with a desperation that always surprised him.

There was one time in particular, that they woke him up and he knew something was different. He didn’t know _how_ he knew it was different, just that it was. He was in the middle of a mission, and was ensconced at a Hydra safehouse, showering away the stink and sweat of a day, hard-fought, that would make him stand out -- he had to be invisible.

He glanced at his reflection in the foggy glass of the mirror, and like always when he caught sight of himself, he flinched. Seeing his own face made him feel less like the Asset he was -- that they...told him he was? It was just as foggy inside his mind as it was in the mirror.

He had feelings that came with seeing his face. When he glanced at the hard, square line of his jaw, he could feel the ghost of a hand gripping it gently as if to focus his attention. It felt...maternal, in a strange way that the Soldier didn’t understand.

When he noticed the long shag of hair around his face, he felt a whisper of a comb tugging through the strands, though as if they were much shorter. The feeling stopped long before the current length of his hair.

When he took in the purple bruising around one eye -- that was already starting to heal quickly -- he could almost see the shadow of a hundred other bruises. There was a feeling of nobility...protectiveness, as though he had taken those hits to protect someone else.

It was when he was dressing again, putting on his black tac pants, that he noticed it. The something different.

There was a long gash on his knee. Nearly two inches long, the skin was raised and swollen, but curiously, it wasn’t bleeding. It almost looked like a scar, but it twinged slightly when he prodded at it, and somehow he knew it didn’t belong on his body. He still wasn’t sure just exactly how he knew that fact, just that he did. The Soldier had never gotten that injury.

It was strange, to say the least.

But he had a mission to complete, so he put that strange instance aside so that he could focus on his orders.

The next morning, he completed his task and was brought back in to be reset and put back into cryo. The last conscious thought he had before the mauling pain of being wiped overtook him, was about that mark and how strange its appearance had been.

*

When Darcy Lewis was seven years old, she fell off her bike and sliced her knee open.

She had been riding her brand new two-wheeler down the biggest hill in the neighborhood. All of the kids on her street would take their bikes, and scooters, and roller skates, and ride down the hill as fast as they could, often showing off with dangerous tricks and gimmicks to impress their friends. All the older kids on the street would coast down the hill while standing up on their pedals, or while taking their hands off the handlebars and putting them up like they were on a rollercoaster. So that’s exactly what scrappy little Darcy Lewis did too.

She climbed all the way to the top of the hill with her brand new, completely beautiful, shiny blue ten-speed, and rode down the hill with her hands thrown up above her head.

But before she could grab the handlebars again at the bottom of the hill, she fumbled and bumped the handlebars, twisting the bike suddenly so it veered up onto the curb and tossed her into the grass.

She cut her leg open on a stick. The gash, just above her right knee, was almost two inches long and bled like a faucet, so Darcy’s mom took her to the emergency room where she got nine stitches and some pills for the pain.

But the next day Darcy woke up with a blinding headache. It felt as though a thousand volts of electricity were passing through her skull. She could barely open her eyes, and she nearly threw up from the pain. By the time her mother had rushed her back to the emergency room, the pain was gone, though Darcy still felt a bit disoriented.

The doctors could find nothing wrong with her. Their best guess seemed to be that it might have been a negative or allergic reaction to the pain medicine she had been given for the stitches in her leg. So they switched the prescription and sent her home.

One hot July afternoon when she was nine, Darcy had been grounded for some small thing, but she had snuck out anyways to meet three of her best friends at the neighborhood pool. She was treading water in the deep end of the pool when she felt a twinge on the right side of her ribcage. Her first thought was that she had a cramp -- that she hadn't waited long enough after eating her hot dog and cheese fries from the snack stand before jumping back into the water. But then she swam to the side of the pool and pulled herself up to sit on the concrete edge.

One of her friends gasped and pointed at her side where a large red welt had appeared in the gap between her two-piece bathing suit. Darcy prodded at it and found that the skin there was raised and tender, but the skin definitely wasn’t broken. It was while she and her friends were still inspecting this welt that Darcy felt a sharp stinging sensation in her left calf. She sucked in a breath at the feeling and looked down to see another welt that had surfaced on the meaty part of her left lower leg. Again, there was no blood or broken skin, but it was sore. Sore enough that Darcy limped home with her arm over one of her friend’s shoulders.

She couldn’t say anything about the welts to her mother, since she had snuck out, and it took almost three days for them to fade. But almost as soon as they had, Darcy had another of the same headaches. She was in the middle of drying dishes after dinner when it hit. So strong that she fell to her knees, dropping the bowl that had been in her hand, which shattered on the tile floor. She curled in on herself while clutching at her throbbing skull, tears streaming from her eyes.

Her mom rushed her to the emergency room, but once again, by the time they got there, the pain had faded. This time, the doctors insisted on having her see a specialist. Over the next several weeks Darcy saw six more neurologists, none of whom had any more answers. She was diagnosed with severe migraines and given a prescription for Imitrex, to help with the headaches.

*

The Soldier had finished a particularly rough mission in Buenos Aires. Once he had checked in and his kills had been confirmed, his handlers brought him back onboard a jet back to the Siberian Hydra base. There had been a medic on board, who tended to the Soldier’s more serious wounds. Specifically the bullet in his leg, and the heavily bleeding gash across his ribs from where another bullet had grazed him, almost three days before. He had field dressed the wounds after they happened, and had to focus on putting the pain in his leg out of his mind while he completed the mission.

The Soldier winced when the medic made the first stitch to close up the wound in his side, before composing himself against the pain and sitting in stony silence. He flinched again when the medic began digging the bullet out of his left calf, and it was harder to tamp down the searing pain running through his leg then, but with enough teeth-gritting effort, he pushed it down and out of his mind.

When the medic had finished, the Soldier tucked his flesh arm tight against his injured side and leaned his head back against the wall of the jet where he was sitting. His mission had been completed -- despite some minor complications -- and there were still several hours before the jet would arrive back at the Siberian base to be debriefed and reset. He allowed himself those hours to sleep. No one would bother him. There were few Hydra agents willing to confront the Winter Soldier -- they were too frightened of him -- and none of the ones who were had been aboard the jet at that moment.

He was rarely allowed to sleep.

Cryo was _not_ sleep. It was stasis. A freezing void.

So he allowed himself those few precious hours to drift off without the overwhelming cold. He still felt the chill in his bones, and he still slept with one proverbial eye open, but it was the closest thing he’d gotten to rest in several years at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters today, because I always like to hit the ground running... ;)
> 
> A full chapter of Darcy this time.

Darcy knew that soulmates existed. They weren’t just some Santa Claus type fairytale that people waxed poetic about, and Hollywood loved turning into movies. But they were relatively rare. Everyone knew someone who knew someone who had a soulmate, but they were a bit like finding a four-leaf clover.

Darcy remembered her dentist telling her, on one particular visit, that every so often, people were starting to be born without wisdom teeth. They just weren’t evolutionarily necessary anymore. Humans were no longer hunting and gathering nomads, subsisting on rough grains and roots, and whatever sinewy meats they could catch. So that extra set of grinding and hard-working molars in the very back was no longer useful -- and only served to overcrowd human mouths, often shifting and pushing all the other teeth out of place.

Soulmates were a bit like that. An ancient biological mating fail-safe that was slowly being edged out of the human gene-pool. But every now and again someone would be born being able to feel the things that their other half was feeling, but every case was different.

The mother of Darcy’s best friend in fourth grade had met her own soulmate when they were just kids. She had gone to the ER with a shooting pain in her right shin, and sitting in the bed beside hers was a boy waiting to get his right tibia set from a bad break.

When Darcy was fourteen she had been in geometry class taking an important test, when a girl named Hayley, who sat at the front of the room got caught cheating with the test answers written on her forearm, and she had been sent to the office and given detention. After class, Darcy’s good friend Sydney had come up to her and shown Darcy her arm -- the answers to the test stood out against the skin of her forearm as raised marks. Sydney mentioned that they had shown up minutes before class. When Hayley got out of detention that afternoon after school, Sydney went straight up to her and kissed her for helping her get an A on the geometry test.

But despite knowing such things existed, as Darcy got older she never put too much stock into them. And she never connected those few events of her childhood with such a rare and fantastical explanation, especially when they were overshadowed by her rare but terrifying migraine episodes.

There were other little things that Darcy would dismiss. First of all, she was always cold. Even sitting directly in the sun on a ninety-degree day, her toes were always a little chilly. Which is why she tended to wear so many oversized sweaters and knitted beanies to compensate for always running cold. She also sometimes noticed that the tips of her left fingers felt a little numb. The feeling actually happened fairly frequently, but it would also come and go, so she got used to it and stopped considering it a concern. The only time it ever bothered her just a little was when she was typing all day -- something that happened more and more frequently as she grew older and got fairly well versed in computers. By the time she started her freshman year of college at Culver, she had become a pretty respectable hacker in her own right.

Those skills came in handy the semester that she suddenly found herself interning for a crazy astrophysicist in the middle of the New Mexico desert. She had applied for the internship on a whim that had arisen out of some kind of “what-the-hell-am-I-doing-with-my-life-and-how-am-I-actually-going-to-use-my-poly-sci-degree” existential crisis.

The awesome-yet-frazzled lady she worked for was a real-life genius named Jane Foster, who had a bad habit of sometimes accidentally driving onto government property to set up her scientific equipment. Darcy had to quickly forge up convincing fake permits on more than one occasion to get them out of potential legal trouble. And eventually she not only learned the best ways to get the absent-minded woman to remember to shower or eat or even sleep when she was on a major science bender, but they also grew to be good friends. Soon after that, Jane’s friend and mentor and fellow astrophysics genius, Erik Selvig, came to stay with them -- though he was usually a bit better about taking care of himself than Jane was.

Then one ridiculous night a super ripped blonde guy fell out of the sky, and Jane hit him with their van.

Everything got a little complicated after that.

Before she knew it, a secret government organization was sweeping in, stealing every piece of their equipment and research (even her freaking iPod), and their tiny town was being attacked by a giant fire-robot controlled by the Norse god of lies and mischief. Oh -- also, the guy who Jane had hit with her car (twice) turned out to be Thor, God of Thunder, and the two of them fell in love over the course of a long weekend before he had to take off again in the name of intergalactic peace or some shit. The whole thing was like something out of a really fucked up Disney movie.

Agent Coulson, the suit that had stolen all their stuff, returned everything with a mild government issued apology and a general threat that he’d be keeping an eye on them.

About a year later, Jane got a temporary job offer in Tromsø, Norway. They found out after the fact that this all happened to coincide quite conveniently with the attack on New York City, arranged and executed by Thor’s slightly less adjusted brother, Loki. Darcy was still pissed about the giant fire-spitting robot incident in New Mexico, that was also thanks to Loki, and this hadn’t done much to improve her opinion of the man.

Another year later they found themselves crashing at Jane’s mom’s place in London when Jane got possessed by a magical reality-bending semi-animate substance, Thor showed up again and fucked with the weather before stealing Jane off to his magical alien palace, evil Dark Elves fell out of the sky, and Erik refused to wear pants.

It wasn’t long after that whole incident that Agent iPod Stealer showed up again, this time, to offer Darcy and Jane jobs with the super fancy, super secret agency he worked for. If they hadn’t been completely out of funding and living off of ramen noodles and Poptarts, they might have turned him down. But as it was, they _were_ living on such meager means, so they (somewhat reluctantly) accepted the offer.

Darcy hadn’t realized at the time that accepting said offer required her to go through real-life field training. For almost a month she woke up every day telling herself she wouldn’t threaten to quit. And every day she threatened to quit a third of the way into her mandatory five-mile run, with one arm thrown across her chest to keep her boobs from bouncing so painfully, despite the double sports bra. But somehow she managed to complete her training, right alongside Jane, who hated it nearly as much as Darcy had.

Because of a combination of her geniusness and her association with Thor, Jane had enough pull to get them based out of SHIELD’s offices in New York, which just so happened to be smack dab in the center of Tony Stark’s tribute to his own penis -- Stark Tower.

They were both housed in SHIELD staff dorms on the fifty-sixth floor, which left quite a bit to be desired, as they were rather bare. Single room dormitories, that held only a bed, a desk and a couple of shelves. Darcy thanked Thor that each room at least had a small attached bathroom, and a mini fridge.

Jane ended up working face-to-face with Doctor Bruce Banner on a semi-regular basis, and every so often Tony “Mr. Ego” Stark himself. Darcy, however, was working in the computer security department as a glorified hacker, and therefore rarely got to see Jane, let alone meet the awesome people she was working with. The most impressive person Darcy ever got to meet was Agent Sitwell, and even that was only one time as he passed through the computer security department on his way upstairs. She wasn’t completely happy about it, but at least she had been granted clearance to visit Jane’s lab (though, not before several official requests by Jane, and some slightly vague threats Darcy aimed towards Coulson -- in the end it was probably Jane’s official requests, but Darcy liked to think it was because Coulson owed her since stealing her iPod), she was making enough to put back a little each month, and her housing was covered. She missed spending all day with Jane, and Jane was more frazzled than usual since her new interns and assistants didn’t understand her the way Darcy did, but all-in-all it was the most stable set-up either woman had experienced in years. So they muddled through.

However, the next time Thor was back on Midgard, he insisted on Darcy (whom he now referred to lovingly as his “Lightning Sister”) joining them for dinner.

By “them,” he meant the Avengers. All of them. The ones who Avenge. Tights and all...except not really, since when she showed up, most of them were in jeans and t-shirts. Hawkeye was in sweats. Captain America was in khakis. Darcy was only a little disappointed.

Natasha made her the most nervous. She was equal parts seriously hot, and seriously scary. But Darcy had a feeling she had at least won some modicum of respect from the redhead after they had broken out the hard stuff after dinner, and Darcy failed to flinch when she tried a shot of Natasha’s favorite vodka. The intimidating woman had quirked an appreciative eyebrow in her direction, while Tony made at least two off-color comments. It had taken a little effort on Darcy’s part, but frankly, when she had been completely dead-broke in college she had partied with her fair share of Everclear, to pack the most punch for the shortest buck.

Somehow during the course of the evening, she felt the most drawn to Steve. She wasn’t quite sure why, but something about him -- whether it was his “aw shucks, ma’am” personality, or his surprisingly dry sense of humor -- made her feel deeply comfortable. Almost as if she had known him for years. She gave him the names of a few more bands and movies to add to his ever-expanding list, and they exchanged numbers so he could let her know his thoughts once he had checked them out.

But, of course, like all things in her life, as soon as things seemed to be settled and normal, all hell broke loose.

Several months after settling into their new positions, Darcy was at her desk one afternoon when she got an encrypted message from a blocked number. It took her nearly an hour to break the code, but once she did, her stomach sank like a rock. SHIELD was compromised, Hydra was alive and well, and Sitwell was dead. Darcy didn’t _know_ who had sent the message, but she figured there were very few people who could have come up with a code that complex in such a short amount of time, let alone decide to send it directly to her. It had to be Natasha, who had been working with Steve in D.C. for six weeks prior. Darcy had gathered by looking around at the other people still sitting calmly at their desks that no one else had gotten the cryptic message of doom.

Darcy had no idea what to do with that new and completely terrifying information, so she did the only thing she could think of, regardless of whether it was the responsible or noble thing to do. Darcy stood and grabbed her phone and wallet, then crossed the office floor as quietly and calmly as possible. Though, it felt like she was being even more conspicuous. Somehow she had forgotten how to walk like a normal person and had no idea if she was doing it right. She smiled at a higher-level agent she passed, then quickly panicked because she couldn’t remember if it was normal for her to smile at people in passing, or not. Did she normally cross her arms when waiting for the elevator? She couldn’t remember. Did she look like she was trying too hard? Of all the times to be working for an organization full of spies -- and now, it seemed, double agents.

Eventually, the elevator arrived and she made her way up to the floor where Jane had her lab space.

“Hey Janey,” Darcy said, working to keep her voice from shaking in front of the lab grunts that milled about everywhere, “Wanna go grab some lunch.”

“Oh,” Jane looked up from her notes, and smiled when she noticed Darcy standing there, “Actually, I just ate.”

“Well, then you should come with me while I go get food.” Darcy tried to convey some measure of her panic through her eyes at Jane. Jane’s brow furrowed and she pushed her chair away from her desk to turn towards Darcy in full.

“Are you okay?”

Darcy raised her eyebrows and jerked her head towards the door as subtly as she could manage, “Yeah, I’m just hungry.”

“Um, okay. Yeah, let’s go, I guess.” Jane said tentatively, finally catching on that there was something that Darcy couldn’t say. Jane grabbed her bag, and they left.

Darcy was on edge the entire time until they finally made their way through the lobby and out through the front door. She turned sharply and made her way down the sidewalk, with Jane close on her heels, and when they were several blocks away she was finally able to relax a little.

“Darcy, what’s going on!?” Jane demanded, half-glaring at Darcy when she slumped and leaned against the wall of the nearest building, breathing heavily.

“SHIELD’s compromised,” Darcy whispered.

“What?”

“SHIELD is compromised. Something to do with Hydra, but it’s not safe there.”

“Wait. Hydra. Like Nazis?”

“Yes. Like motherfucking Nazis. Shit.”

“What the hell? How do you know all this?”

“I got an encrypted message. From Natasha, I think. I mean, she knows where I work, and I have no idea who else might have sent it.”

“Shit.”

“Oh, also, Sitwell’s dead.”

“Shit!”

“And now we’re here. Where are we gonna go? I’ve just got my phone and my wallet. I didn’t even have time to grab my charger.”

“Crap. Um...I have no idea. All my research is back in that lab! I don’t have any backups with me. Oh my god! Does that mean that Hydra has access to all my research? Have we been helping them this whole time?”

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck. This is bad.”

“Oh my god, this is so bad.”

Darcy finally got ahold of herself and was able to push the panic down far enough to think about their next steps. They stopped by a drug store so Darcy could buy a cheap charger, then they hunkered down in a busy coffee shop and tried to look inconspicuous for the next several hours. If either of them had higher clearance levels, they might have been privy to the locations of any nearby safe houses. Though even if they had, there was no way of knowing if those safe houses had been compromised as well, so Darcy supposed it was probably a moot point.

As it started getting dark they figured they needed to find a place to stay for the night. Darcy looked up the cheapest hotel she could find in the city that she didn’t think might be infested or a front for a drug ring, and made a reservation.

When they checked in, Darcy turned on the television to find video of Captain America being forced to the ground by men dressed in black and carrying AR15s, broadcasting across every major news channel. The two women sat in nauseous silence watching the videos over and over again. Until suddenly, Darcy keeled over, pain rocketing through her skull. She gripped the sheets and gritted her teeth, but it felt like a thousand knives stabbing into her brain. All she knew for those few minutes was the pain. Jane was on her feet, yelling, shaking Darcy, until, just as suddenly as it had come on, the younger woman stopped moving. Jane frantically checked for Darcy’s pulse and relaxed a little when she found it. Darcy came to a few minutes later.

“What the hell was that!?”

“Ugh.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Darcy blinked her eyes a few times to try and clear the fuzziness behind them, “I get migraines sometimes. The last time I had one, though, was right before I started college.”

“Darcy, that was _not_ a migraine. That was some kind of attack.” Jane crossed her arms tightly across her chest in concern.

Darcy shrugged, “I don’t know. But I’ve been getting them every now and again since I was seven.”

“Oh my god.” Jane flopped on the bed beside Darcy, “That’s horrible.”

“I don’t know, it kind of tickles,” Darcy said, her voice drier than dust and Jane glared at her. “Chill out. I’m fine now,” Darcy grabbed the pillow beside her and used it to smack Jane in the face.

“Good,” Jane recovered quickly and grinned, then grabbed another pillow, “Because otherwise, I’d feel bad for attacking you!” The scientist tossed the pillow at Darcy, and for a few moments, they forgot about the shit that was hitting the fan all around them, as they laughed and brutally attacked each other with pillows.

The next day they spent holed up in their tiny hotel room, waiting for any kind of word from the outside world. Jane only left to book another night at the front desk and to get them snacks from the vending machine, since both of them were wary of making their location known for any unnecessary reason. Then late in the afternoon, it was all over the news; Videos of a helicarrier going down in the Potomac and crashing into the side of the Triskelion in the process.

Captain America was missing.

Hydra was back.

SHIELD had fallen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh jeez, I have no self control.
> 
> So here I am again. Probably after this, updates will happen once a week ish. But for now I just can't help myself;)
> 
> Here you go my lovelies<3

The Soldier wasn’t sure-- No. Bucky. Bucky wasn’t completely sure what had made him dive after the Targe--Steve. But something in his gut had made him feel intense _need_ to save him.

But he had. Had dragged him out of the water and left him on the bank of the Potomac, to either come to or be found by someone else.

Then he had taken off. He spent the night in a homeless shelter, where they gave him a pair of jeans, a sturdy jacket, and a baseball cap. He laid all night on a cot with a scratchy blanket, but he didn’t even try to sleep. He knew it was useless. There was just too much rushing through his head.

The ghosts and whispers of memories he’d had before, were now more solid and had actual images and shape to them, but he still didn’t have context for most of them.

There was one that kept playing through his mind, over and over again, of a young girl -- probably about ten years old -- with brown hair in braids, and wearing a yellow calico dress, eating an ice cream cone. He knew that it had happened at Coney Island, but he had no idea who the girl was, or what year it had happened.

He had a lot of memories of the Tar-- of Steve, though he looked vastly different to how he appeared now. He was younger, sure, but he was also a skinny and sickly looking thing. He had quite a few images of him with black eyes and split lips -- he knew Steve often picked fights he didn’t quite have the clout to finish, and that Bucky had jumped in to save his rear end a fair few times. Those memories made him want to shake his head and laugh. But he couldn’t make himself laugh. He...wasn’t quite sure...how to.

The Sold-- Bucky didn’t know what to do next. But he knew he needed to keep his former handlers from finding him. That much he felt deep in his gut -- in the same place he had felt the strange need to save Steve.

He had to keep moving. But there was one thing he needed to do first.

The next morning Bucky left the shelter and made his way to the Smithsonian. He had seen a sign for an exhibit that he thought might give him some clues as to who Steve really was.

What he hadn’t expected was to see a giant picture of his own face right beside the Tar-- Steve’s.

_James Buchanan Barnes._

His full name. He had a flash of a voice saying those three names to him sternly, scolding, like he’d gotten in trouble, and with it came the strong scent of rosemary.

He spent nearly four hours in the exhibit, reading each panel and placard of information over and over again. Moments, memories, scents, feelings were all rushing at him, making him dizzy from the flurry of senses. Eventually, he walked numbly out of the building to sit on a bench outside. He rubbed at his eyes with his flesh hand, trying to make the buzzing feeling in his head subside so he could think.

He couldn’t stay where he was, he couldn’t let those people-- couldn’t let HYDRA find him, and there was one person in the world he recognized. Steve.

He would find Steve.

It took almost forty-eight hours for Bucky to confirm that the other man was no longer in D.C. And there was only one other place he knew he might be.

The exhibit had mentioned that Steve was Captain America, and Captain America was part of the team they called “The Avengers,” who were mostly based out of Stark Tower in New York City.

*

Darcy had been having a rough week.

Hydra was back, and SHIELD had fallen, which had led to a large portion of her co-workers either ending up dead or turning out to be HYDRA sleeper agents.

The main upside to the building she worked in being the main base for the world’s mightiest heroes, was that it was significantly better defended than most of the other SHIELD bases. Hydra had failed to take the tower, which meant she and Jane, once again, had a real place to crash.

In light of both the overall situation and her association with both Thor and Jane, she had pretty much gotten an unofficial promotion -- not that she really had a job anymore. But when Tony Stark needed a computer intelligence hookup, she happened to be conveniently nearby and available. So she was currently helping the Avengers (which still blew her mind sometimes) and the scattered remnants of SHIELD figure out their shit.

Agent Coulson was still stuck at the Hub, and Agent Hand hadn’t checked in for almost seventy-two hours, which was mildly concerning. But they were slowly starting to see through the clearing smoke.

Darcy had been in some contact with another SHIELD hacker, another associate of Coulson’s named Skye. The two exchanged messages to map out all the known safe SHIELD bases. So far there were only four, but at least four bases were more than zero.

Jane had been spending most of her time back in the labs with Doctor Banner and various other scientists, trying to ascertain how much of their research and work had made it into Hydra hands. So far it was looking like a terrifying amount.

But Stark had moved both Darcy and Jane upstairs to the official Avenger’s residential area. He called it, “keeping his friends close,” when she asked, and she’d teased him for an entire day about being such a bleeding heart.

Steve had returned with Natasha and another man, named Sam Wilson, who had apparently helped them take down the helicarriers in D.C. Sam was a former Army pararescueman and a counselor, who flew around with a customized wing-pack and went by the moniker “Falcon.” His counseling experience was definitely coming in handy, as people and agents sorted through the ruins of their organization and life as they knew it, and he was helping Steve quite a bit too.

The blonde man was obviously heavily affected by the events in D.C., and he hadn’t been adjusting particularly well.

Darcy actually took it upon herself to check on Steve whenever she had the chance, but she tried to do so without smothering him. If her week had been rough, his had been at least a little worse.

“Hey,” Darcy said lightly, coming to stand next to the barstool where he was seated at the marble countertop. They were in the communal kitchen in the Avenger’s residential floors of the tower, and he had been staring into space for all of the three minutes since Darcy had walked into the room. He looked absolutely exhausted.There was a shadow of stubble on his normally smooth jaw, and the bags under his eyes were even more pronounced than they had been the night before, which led Darcy to assume that he still hadn’t slept.

Steve looked up at her voice, then gave her a belated and tired smile, “Hi, Darcy.” He had _finally_ stopped calling her “Miss Lewis,” after she pointed out that they were texting buddies, which put them on an automatic first name basis.

“You look tired.” She stated the obvious.

“I haven’t slept much.” Steve sighed.

“I figured.” Darcy put a hand on his arm, “Let’s go grab some coffee. We don’t have to talk, but I think we could both use the company.”

He looked for a moment like he was going to protest -- that he was fine, _really_ \-- but after half a second, he gave a long sigh and nodded.

“Come on, there’s that Starbucks just about a block from here. I need some fresh air anyways.” She said, linking her arm through his and leading him to the elevators.

*

Bucky shifted, uncrossing and recrossing his legs. He was sitting on the ground with his back up against a light pole. Already, he had had several passersby drop spare change in his lap, taking him for homeless. He supposed he didn’t look entirely _not_ homeless, with his dirty jacket and jeans, his shaggy and tangled hair, and the several days worth of stubble on his chin. And it probably didn’t help with him sitting on the ground the way he was, but the spot where he was sitting gave him the perfect angle from which to watch the front doors of Stark Tower.

It had taken him almost two and a half days to walk and hitchhike into Manhattan, and nearly no time at all to find the giant gleaming building. A somewhat unfamiliar part of him surfaced to note how Stark was, perhaps, compensating for something -- it took him off guard when he felt the urge to laugh. He still hadn’t quite figured out that feeling just yet.

He kept watch over all the people coming and going out of the tower, which he supposed was probably significantly fewer at that point than before the fall of SHIELD. But after almost a full day of sitting and watching, and sitting some more, the Soldier woke up when the Target exited the building.

No.

Not the Target.

Steve. His...friend.

Bucky pushed the Soldier down with all his strength until he had a wavering control once more, then he turned his focus back to the person who had just left the tower. Or people, rather. There was someone else with Steve. A pretty brunette dame with curves for days.

He blinked at that assessment of the woman on Steve’s arm. That...had felt right. Right? He had some recollection of that way of being -- talking. A natural inclination to speak a certain way, hold himself a certain way, walk a certain way. It came in overwhelming bursts and hadn’t stopped taking him off guard yet. But that attitude, that swagger, seemed to match the descriptions of the man he had read about once being at the exhibit.

He watched the pair make their way down the sidewalk and around the corner where he lost sight of them. But he stayed where he was. They would be back.

And almost fifteen minutes later he saw that he was right. They were coming back around the corner from the way they’d gone, though this time they were no longer linking arms, and instead, each held a tall paper coffee cup. He watched as they reached the doors to the tower and Steve went to hold it open for the woman, who made some comment he couldn’t hear across the street and the corner of Steve’s mouth twitched up ever so slightly in response.

Once the door swung closed behind them, Bucky stood and carefully crossed the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up my favorite humans?!
> 
> Apparently, today is a day for updates. I posted Chapter 21 of _I Just Can't Stand to See You Leaving,_ if you happen to be following that particular story. Then I came home after a particularly exhausting day of teaching, and needed a pick me up - so here is that pick me up: Chapter 4! Yay :)
> 
> Plotty things are getting plotty ;) <3 <3 <3

“You guys got coffee? Where’s mine?” Clint Barton asked when he saw Steve and Darcy return to the common area where several others were now camped out.

Darcy stuck her tongue out at the archer and side-stepped him to sit on the arm of the nearest couch. “Shove it, Grape Crush.”

Natasha looked amused at Darcy’s comment, and Tony smirked openly.

Clint made a face, “I get it. I’m wearing a purple shirt. You’re hilarious.”

“Barton, most of your shirts are purple. Dude. That’s borderline weird.” Sam agreed.

“So, Cap always wears khakis. That’s just straight-up grandpa.” Clint defended himself, gesturing to Steve who, for once, was not in fact wearing khakis, but jersey shorts.

Steve looked a little more refreshed by the fresh dose of piping hot caffeine which he was sipping slowly, and he chuckled, “What’s wrong with khakis?”

Clint crossed his arms petulantly, “Only old people and soccer moms wear khakis.”

Natasha was still surveying the scene silently, but now she seemed to be trying not to laugh.

Darcy tilted her head toward Steve and screwed up her face, “I hate to agree with Barney the Dinosaur, here, but he’s not completely wrong.”

“Ooh, I love it when people fight and I’m not to blame for any of it,” Tony said somewhat gleefully.

“You’re just looking for trouble, Stark,” Sam noted, giving the older man some serious side-eye.

Clint threw his hands in the air, “I wear a lot of purple. We get it.”

Darcy gave him a full-on smirk before poking at him again, “Calm down, Donatello. Don’t get your Bo-Staff in a bunch.”

“That’s not even--”

 _“Pardon the interruption,”_ Jarvis interjected, pausing their argument, _“But my facial recognition program has identified a match for Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.”_

Steve almost dropped his coffee, “What?” But he recovered quickly and set down the hot cup, a mixture of shock and hope written across his face. “Where?”

_“It would appear that he is currently in the lobby.”_

“Wait,” Tony held a hand up as if to stop Jarvis, “ _My_ lobby? _This_ lobby?”

 _“Yes, Sir. The first-floor lobby of Stark Tower.”_ Jarvis sounded like if he had eyes he would have rolled them then.

“Is he...breaking stuff?” Tony asked, still in disbelief. Steve leveled a stony look at him, and Tony shrugged defensively.

_“His demeanor seems quite complacent.”_

“Well, shit. Let’s go, Capsicle. Nat can come too.”

“Oh gee, _can_ I?” Natasha said sarcastically, but she got up anyway.

Tony ignored her in favor of motioning for Steve to follow him and the three of them headed for the elevators. Steve still looking so hopeful it was almost heartbreaking.

*

Bucky had been waiting for less than five minutes, but it had felt like much longer. He realized that it was because he was nervous.

That still felt strange. Feeling things like anxiety or fear without automatically needing to shut them down. He was sitting on a marble bench across the wide lobby from the bay of elevators. The plates in his left arm whirred quietly underneath his jacket as they recalibrated, and his right palm was sweating a little, which he wiped against his dirty jeans.

“Bucky?”

He glanced up at the sound of his name.

Steve stood there staring at him. Behind him was the same redheaded woman who he had fought in D.C. The one who had tried to garrotte him. _Natalia,_ his brain supplied. Just a flash of a memory, and not enough to understand yet. She stood with her arms by her sides, holding herself very carefully to show she wasn’t a threat, but still in such a way that she could spring into a fight at any second if need be.

Beside her was a shorter man with dark hair and a goatee that Bucky recognized as Tony Stark.

Bucky lifted his hands up as slowly as he could, in a show of peace. He turned his eyes back on his...friend. “Hey, Steve.”

“Bucky.” Steve repeated, “Buck. Do...do you remember me?”

“I think so. I...I’ve got...memories.”

“Look,” Stark interrupted, “I’m all for you two catching up, but why don’t we continue this little reunion upstairs. Fewer random civilians milling about, and more souped up people with strong backgrounds in hand-to-hand combat and all that.”

“I’m not here to cause trouble,” Bucky said quietly, keeping his hands up. His eyes shifted from Steve to the redhead-- Natalia, to Stark, and back again.

“I know that Bucky,” Steve assured him calmly.

Stark shrugged slightly behind him and took a half step forward. Bucky had to work to keep The Soldier down and to keep his body still and complacent. Stark spoke, his tone flippant, “I’m sure you’re not, Svedka. But your former employers obviously aren’t above brainwashing and those other fun things, so I’m sure you’ll understand why I’d like us to step pretty carefully here.”

Steve threw Stark a frustrated look, but Bucky just nodded. He couldn’t blame them for wanting to be careful. They had no reason to trust him -- hell, he could barely trust himself -- but if they gave him a chance, he planned on giving them as many reasons as he could.

Stark turned around and started for the elevators. Steve waited for Bucky to stand and then walked beside him, keeping a careful few inches between them, though Bucky could practically feel the other man’s desire to reach out and make physical contact radiating through his jacket sleeve -- a hand on his shoulder, anything. Part of Bucky wanted that too, but the rest of him wasn’t so sure he could handle it just yet.

They stepped into the elevator together, Steve on his left, Stark on his right, and Natalia (who still had yet to say anything, but was obviously keeping a razor sharp eye on the whole situation) in front of him. It was a relatively short ride up to the eighty-sixth floor, but it felt like it took forever.

When they reached their destination, the elevator stopped and they got out. Natalia led them further into the room.

He saw the same curvy brunette dish he had seen out walking with Steve earlier, but now she was talking to a shorter blonde man in a purple t-shirt. The elevator made a dinging sound as the doors closed behind them, calling attention to their arrival. Most of the other heads in the room swiveled to look at them. He recognized the black man in the room as the one with the wings from D.C. He didn’t look thrilled to see Bucky again, but his body language was specifically non-threatening. But when the man in the purple shirt saw Bucky, he jumped, reaching a hand out to shove the brown-haired woman behind him. The movement caused her to stumble, and the coffee in her hand tipped, sloshing the scalding liquid across her right hand and wrist.

“Shit, ow! Owowowow! Fuck, Barton!” She yelled, nearly dropping the cup but somehow managing to deposit it on the closest flat surface. She shook her burned hand wildly.

Bucky winced.

For a moment he thought it had been just at seeing someone else hurt themselves, but a second later he realized that it was actually because his own right hand was stinging. He lifted it to inspect and saw that there were raised pink welts covering the back of his hand and down onto the inside of his wrist.

The woman was still shouting expletives at the man in the purple shirt, who was doing his best to help her by looking at the burns on her hand and apologizing over and over again.

Bucky looked back down at his hand.

“Bucky?” He glanced up again to see Steve staring at his flesh hand, just as he had been a moment before.

Slowly everyone in the room noticed what had caught Steve’s attention as well.

Everyone except the woman and the man in purple.

“Goddammit, Barton! This is why chivalry is overrated. If you hadn’t tried to throw the damsel out of harm’s way I wouldn’t have burned my fucking hand off! I’m a fucking agent, too, for Christ sakes, I can handle myself! Stupid fucking patriarchal...” she slowly trailed off when she noticed everyone else in the room had gone silent and was staring at her. “What?”

*

She had a soulmate. Darcy had a soulmate.

Suddenly the strange medical mysteries of her childhood made sense.

Suddenly they made _sense,_ and it made her feel sick. Her migraines. HYDRA had “reset” him following each mission. The pain she had felt had been the pain he had felt -- though he had felt it in full, and it didn’t just disappear after a few minutes for him the way it did for her. He got no reprieve.

And while that part of things was just beginning to make sense, so much more had gotten so incredibly confusing.

Bucky had shown up almost two weeks ago, and their contact had been extremely limited. Apparently, being soulmates with someone was complicated when that person happened to be a formerly brainwashed non-complicit Russian Nazi human weapon. He had been sticking close to Steve’s side and spending a lot of time with Sam, who, thanks to his background as a counselor, was helping Bucky work through some of his issues.

Darcy didn’t take it personally.

But it was pretty awkward the few times they _had_ had contact. He mostly just followed Steve around, and didn’t say much, but when he was in the room with her he wouldn’t even look her in the eyes.

And then there was the morning she was heading out for a coffee run and she encountered him by the elevators on the common floor. He came around the corner quickly and almost ran into her.

“Oh,” He said quietly, pulling up short, “Sorry.” His long hair was pulled back into an elastic, and he was wearing jeans and a red hoodie. He kept his left hand tucked into the pocket of the hoodie as if to hide his metal hand.

“No worries,” She assured him, trying to give him a comforting smile, but once again, he was looking everywhere but at her. “Hey, Bucky?” She said gently, “You know, you can look at me. You won’t turn to stone.”

He took a measured breath and let it out before shifting his eyes to look very deliberately at her.

“Thanks. You’ll give a girl a complex avoiding her like that.” She joked, reaching out to press the down button to call the elevator.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, giving her an apologetic look.

“You looking for Steve?”

“Yeah. Uh, yes...ma’am.”

Darcy worked not to roll her eyes, “I’ll deal with all the reasons you calling me ‘Ma’am’ freaks me out later, but I think Steve went down to the gym.”

Bucky nodded, “Oh. Thanks.”

“No problem.” She smiled, and tilted her head toward the elevator which had just arrived, “I’m heading that way too.” Darcy stepped into the car and kept the door open with her hand.

“Oh, no...um.” He looked around a little anxiously, “I’ll catch the next one.”

“Dude, the elevator’s completely empty. I swear I’m not going to bite. Come on.”

Finally, he gave a small sigh and acquiesced, stepping onto the elevator but making sure to stand on the far opposite side of the car from her. The doors closed and she pressed the button for the gym floor as well as the button for the lobby.

“Wh--” He started after a second of silence. It took him another five seconds before he seemed to work the nerve up to try again. “Why...don’t you...hate me?” He finally stuttered out.

She whipped her head around to look at him, “Why on earth would I hate you?”

He was staring at a spot low on the front wall of the elevator like it held the answers to the universe, “Everything I’ve been through...I know you felt it. Every time I got shot or stabbed, or...wiped.”

Something in her chest clenched painfully at the ruined tone of his voice, “Yeah, I’ll give it to you that some of that wasn’t exactly pleasant, but it’s also not like any of it was your fault. I’m honestly just a little relieved now that I know what was behind those crazy migraines I had all my life. But mostly I’m furious _for_ you. I hate that they did that to you, that they made you-- It’s not your fault. Any of it.”

He glanced down at his feet and back up again, “Some of it’s my fault.”

Darcy was pretty sure they should have gotten to the gym floor by now, and she suspected Jarvis of slowing down the elevator. That A.I. always had his own agenda.

“Well, I’m gonna fight you on that point. And I’ll have you know I’m scrappy.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up when he said, “You think you can fight me?”

She smirked, “I’m just saying, don’t underestimate me. I am a SHIELD agent, after all, buddy.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, doll.” Bucky’s slight smile had reached his eyes now.

The elevator stopped at his floor and the doors opened.

“I’ll see you around, then?” He asked as he made to step out of the car, blocking the doors with his body.

Darcy grinned, “You’ll see me around, Sarge.”

The same hint of a smile was back on his face as he turned and let the doors close behind him. Darcy blew out a breath. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys! Oh my god, you are all the most wonderful, supportive, lovely, beautiful readers I could ever ask for <3 The response to this story has been Uh-Mazing, and it makes me smile every time I get one of those lovely emails from AO3 telling me that someone left a comment or some Kudos love ;) You fantastic humans make my day!
> 
> But man, chapter 5 & the plotty things -- ugh! So many plotty things.

Things were getting...not easier exactly, but little by little, normal things were becoming manageable. Sam was helping him a lot and had a way of helping him work through things that didn’t make him feel like a complete headcase. Steve was always there for him. Bucky had been staying in the spare bedroom in Steve’s place since he got back, and during the frequent nights that Bucky couldn’t sleep, he would go out to the living room and turn on the TV. Even though he always made sure to keep the volume super low, Steve somehow always heard him (a downside to super soldier hearing) and would come out to just sit with him until Bucky felt he could go back to bed.

The one person he felt most surprised about helping him so much was Darcy.

He still wasn’t completely convinced she shouldn’t hate him for the pain she had experienced because of him. But somehow she didn’t. Somehow, she seemed to genuinely like him. She was always smiling at him, and talking to him, even if he didn’t feel like talking back. She never seemed to expect anything from him.

Then one day, nearly two months after his arrival at the tower, something interesting happened.

Bucky was just getting out of the shower after a sparring session with Steve. The other super soldier was helping Bucky to get used to fighting again without triggering flashbacks. Little by little he was getting better at that, too.

Bucky was just wrapping a towel around his waist to go find some clothes when he felt a tickling sensation on the inside of his right arm. At first, he thought nothing of it and scratched at it absently. But it persisted, so he finally looked down at his arm, and saw thin pink lines on the damp skin. It took him a moment before he realized they were words.

_Coffee. Common room. 10 min._

There was only one person in the world who could have made that message appear. He glanced up at his reflection in the mirror and almost jumped when he noticed he was smiling. That wasn’t the face he was used to seeing look back at him.

Bucky quickly finished toweling off and got dressed so he could go meet Darcy at the appropriate time and place. He might have changed his shirt three times and still ended up wearing the first charcoal gray button down he had tried. He realized how ridiculous he felt in the elevator up to meet her. It was just coffee. And only in the common room too -- it wasn’t like they were even going out anywhere. It wasn’t like he was quite ready for that at any rate, which she might have realized.

Bucky felt a sudden wave of nerves when the elevator came to a stop on the common floor. His right hand was sweating a little, and the plates in his left arm chose that moment to recalibrate, whirring quietly beneath the fabric of his shirt. He stepped into the open-plan room and saw her sitting on a barstool at the wide counter that separated the living space from the large kitchen. The _ding_ of the elevator as the doors closed betrayed his arrival and she swung around, her face lighting up when she saw that it was him.

“Hey, you got my note,” Darcy said with a wink and holding up her arm, where the same message was written in pen.

The nonchalance of her comment stopped him up short -- as if she had left him a post-it note rather than literally making the note appear on his skin. He felt the laugh bubbling up in his chest before he could think, and then it was out and echoing in the room. It felt strange to laugh, but it was oddly comforting, and the answering grin she gave him steadied him in the wake of it.

The next thing was also out of his mouth before he could stop it, “Yeah, I got your coordinates for the rendezvous.” The casual charm slipping into his voice as if it was tailor-made for him.

She treated him by laughing in response, and she patted the counter beside her to motion him over.

But as soon as he sat, she disappointed him by getting up.

“Already sick of me, doll?” Again, the charm just slipped right off his tongue as easily as breathing.

She laughed again, and he realized how much he enjoyed the sound of it. Not just her laugh, but knowing that he was the cause of it. Darcy opened a cabinet to pull out two oversized mugs. “I figured I’d pour us some coffee. I mean, what’s a coffee date without the coffee?” She shrugged and reached for the full pot of coffee that was still sitting on the base of the maker.

“So this is a date, is it?” Bucky asked, leaning forward so that his arms rested on the countertop, though he tucked the metal hand behind his other arm out of habit.

“I thought that was obvious?” She glanced at him while pouring the first cup, which she then pushed towards him.

“I just wasn’t sure.” He replied, taking the mug but not drinking yet. His instinct was to wait until she sat again. “Usually, people on a date go out somewhere.”

“Well, I just wasn’t sure if you’d want to go out. I know you haven’t left the tower much yet.” She said, pushing a carton of creamer and a bowl of sugar towards him as well. He took the first but declined the second, as she circled back around the counter to sit beside him again.

“Yeah...I’m still kind of...” Bucky trailed off aimlessly. He wasn’t quite sure how to phrase it, but it didn’t seem to matter to her.

“And that’s fine,” she jumped in. Darcy’s expression was reassuring. “I just wanted to spend some time with you, and I figured this might be a little more your pace right now.”

He was touched that she had considered that he wasn’t quite ready to spend a lot of time away from the building just yet, and also that she didn’t seem bothered by it.

“You really don’t have to do any of this.”

“I know, but I like you.” She smiled.

Bucky wasn’t quite sure what to do with that. “You...”

But, once again, she seemed to know to move on, “Did you know that the Howling Commandos are part of most high school American history curriculum?”

“I…” That stopped him, “They are?”

“Yeah, and when I was fifteen I totally had the hots for you. My textbook had this black and white photo of all of you in it. And then there was another of just you and Steve side-by-side. He looked so All-American-Apple-Pie, but you had this smirk on your face almost like you had a dirty secret.”

He raised an amused eyebrow, “I probably did, doll.”

She pointed at his face, “There it is. That’s the smirk.”

He was grinning now. It felt good. “How’s it look in color?”

“Even better,” Darcy said, tossing him a wink.

He chuckled. This time, the laugh felt more natural, more comfortable. Maybe it was something about her.

They sat at the long marble countertop and talked for almost an hour before she made some reference to a movie that went straight over his head. After that, she insisted that they had to watch the movie for his sake, and they moved over to the couch in front of the enormous entertainment system.

“Steve’s got his list. I’ve seen a couple of things on there.” Bucky mentioned when she asked him what his favorite modern movies were so far.

Darcy shrugged, “Steve’s list is okay, and I've even added some things to it for him. But I can seriously hook you up. I’ll make sure you hit all the major pop-culture milestones and I can make you a few playlists too.”

“I’d like that,” He agreed. “Okay, so what is happening in this movie? What happened to the original kid?” The movie was one she had insisted was necessary to his pop-culture education. Something called _Jumanji_.

“He got sucked into the board game. It’s like magic, you can’t stop playing until someone wins.”

Bucky sat back and let himself relax a little into the couch. He figured if she thought it was so important he should probably pay attention.

*

Things with Bucky were going well, and it made Darcy smile just thinking about it. He had made huge improvements in just a few short months. He was still a little quiet when there were a lot of people around, but he was talking more and interacting more freely with everyone. He was even smiling and laughing more, though mostly only in front of her and Steve. He had also started taking short trips outside the tower. Usually just around the corner to get coffee, or down the street to get food, and always while he was with someone else. But it was still a huge step for him, and Darcy was more than a little proud.

They had become good friends since that first somewhat awkward interaction in the elevator a couple of months ago. Darcy was slowly working Bucky (and sometimes Steve) through a list that included important pop-culture staples, as well as many of her personal favorites. So far she had gotten him through most of her favorite movies, and had gotten him to start binge-watching _Friends_. She had also introduced him to some of her favorite music and was proud to say he had picked up a thing for classic rock.

Darcy had also started occasionally writing him notes on her right arm. She often did it to invite him to come watch TV with her, or to go grab some food or coffee, but she also did it when she knew he was having a rough day. It was a little awkward since she was right handed, but she was getting more used to it, and it was fun to have their own little way of communicating. Part of Darcy felt like she was back in middle school, passing notes to her friends, written in roughly developed codes to hide the names of their crushes, and feeling like something out of _Mission Impossible_.

So things with Bucky were going well.

But things with work were still a total fucking mess.

SHIELD had picked up almost all the pieces it could following the incident with Project Insight and the fall of most of the organization. Coulson -- who was now the Director of what was left of SHIELD -- had arrived at the tower almost two weeks prior and informed them that since the organization had such limited resources, many of their previously non-field agents would have to be ready to do field work. Which, for Darcy, meant being sent out on missions instead of staying at home, manning the computers from her comfy rolling chair that had fantastic lumbar support. It also meant that Darcy had to go through even more field training, including weapons training.

“Can’t I just bring my taser with me?” She asked the agent in charge of her weapons training that day -- a very serious woman from Coulson’s personal team, named Agent May. Darcy held the semi-automatic handgun from the butt, between her thumb and forefinger. “I’m thoroughly in favor of stricter gun control. So this isn’t really my thing.”

Agent May said nothing, she just crossed her arms and gave Darcy a glare that could have probably peeled paint.

“I’m just saying,” Darcy continued, still holding the gun like it was infected with something, “Gun-related accidents can only happen when there’s a gun around, so I’m just suggesting we prevent unnecessary problems here.”

Agent May continued to Stare.

“No?” Darcy sighed, “Alright, alright. It was just a suggestion.” She said, turning to face the targets on the other side of the room, and shifting her grip so she held the gun properly. Despite her reluctance to use the gun, she was actually a pretty decent shot, and before they finished that day, Agent May actually complimented her work.

Well, what she actually said was, _“Not terrible. Keep working.”_

But Darcy was choosing to accept that comment as high praise.

The other part of Coulson’s news that she hated was that she had to return to a routine of running every day. So with her cleavage strapped in place with two sports bras, she began jogging on the treadmill in Stark’s fully-outfitted gym. She did everything from picturing ex-boyfriends or zombies chasing her, to imagining plates of pizza and donuts just out of reach in front of her, but she was determined that if she ever had to literally run for her life, she would be prepared.

And then there was the day that Director Coulson called her into a briefing with a handful of other agents from his team for a mission.

He needed two hacking experts for this particular job, so he was calling Darcy in to work side-by-side with Skye. They had a lead on a Hydra cell in a former SHIELD base just outside of Denver, Colorado, and the team’s job was to clear out the Hydra operatives and take back the base.

Darcy took a deep breath and hoped like hell her training would be enough to get her through without letting the rest of the team down.

*

Bucky was sparring with Natalia to try and distract himself. Darcy had been sent on a mission earlier the day before, but they hadn’t heard anything from the team yet. That wasn’t entirely a bad thing. The last thing they wanted was to be transmitting too much information and have any of it be intercepted by Hydra. But the lack of information was starting to eat at him.

Bucky was feeling so much more in control of himself, but he was still stepping carefully. He still had haunting nightmares, and he still occasionally had flashbacks that would take him by surprise and knock the wind out of him.

Darcy had been a huge help, she made him feel normal and accepted. She would take him by the wrist to drag him along and show him something when she got excited, and she never gave a second thought to grabbing his cybernetic arm -- the plates automatically measured so much information from the touch of her hand, and converted it into signals that could be interpreted by his brain, like the temperature and texture of her skin, and the amount of pressure she was using to touch him. He still kept it in his pocket or wore a glove over it anytime he went in public, but she had helped him start to accept it as just another part of him.

And now she was out in the field, on a mission, and he had zero information as to her whereabouts or her safety status. It was putting him on edge, so he was trying to literally fight off the tension. He had already gone a few rounds with Steve until Natalia joined them in the gym and offered to spar for a while. But Steve stuck around, waiting on a bench at the side of the room and rehydrating.

It was an interesting challenge for Bucky, knowing that he had helped train her many years ago, and still seeing hints of his style in her technique. He was actually just starting to enjoy himself when he felt like he had been kicked in the ribs and all the air rushed out of his lungs. But Natalia hadn’t even been near that side of him when it had happened. Bucky stumbled back a few steps and held his hand up as a signal to her that he needed to stop.

Steve stood immediately and crossed the mats to check on him.

“You okay, Buck?” He asked, eyes traveling from Bucky’s face which was still pinched from the discomfort to the place on his side where he was holding his cybernetic hand.

“I don’t know,” Bucky answered honestly. Once he had regained his breath he lifted his shirt to inspect his side.

There on the left side of his ribcage was an area of mottled pink skin. Bucky pressed his flesh and bone fingers against the area and found that it was painful to the touch.

Natalia had come over to see what the problem was, and sucked in a short breath when she saw the mark.

“I didn’t think I kicked you there.” She said, her voice laced with confusion.

Bucky’s head snapped up to look Steve in the eye, “Darcy.”

Steve and Bucky abandoned their sparring session in the gym, with apologies to Natalia who waved them off once she understood, and they rushed up to Director Coulson’s office.

“Where are they!?” Bucky demanded, not bothering to knock. “What happened?”

Coulson for his part, looked thoroughly unfazed at having his office stormed by super soldiers. He closed the manila file folder he had been paging through, and glanced up at them, “I know there were some complications with the team getting out.” Bucky gave him credit for not beating around the bush and trying to hide behind confidentiality and clearance designations, like so many upper-level administrators seemed to do. “But ultimately, extraction was successful and no fatalities were reported. But that is all the information I have right now, gentlemen. The team should be back in several hours, and we’ll know the rest when they land.”

Bucky felt like he should be relieved, knowing that Darcy was at least alive. But in reality, it didn’t help much. He knew she was injured to some extent, but he had no idea what had happened, or how severe her injuries were. Every bad thing that his imagination could conjure up swept through his mind, making him feel sick.

Steve got Bucky to leave Coulson’s office, and somehow they ended up back in their apartment. Steve had turned the TV on as a distraction, but all Bucky could do was pace and imagine the worst.

Finally, after what felt like the entire night, Jarvis’ voice cut through the haze of worry in Bucky’s mind.

_“Excuse me, Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes. I believe you may like to know that the team of SHIELD agents has returned. Their quinjet landed on the rooftop helipad moments ago.”_

Bucky was out the door before he could even hear Steve thank the A.I. behind him. He took the elevator straight up to the roof and practically ran down the hallway to get to the automatic sliding doors that opened onto the helipad. The wind was strong, and while most of his hair was still held back by an elastic, the pieces that had escaped whipped around his face. The team was just starting to trickle off of the quinjet, and despite the bright landing lights on the helipad, he squinted to see her disembark, but as soon as he picked her out, he was heading toward her.

Darcy looked fine from a distance, though looks could be deceiving. She was wearing the standard SHIELD tac pants but had her jacket knotted around her hips, leaving her upper body clad in just a black tank top. As soon as she saw him she smiled and waved, but Bucky kept towards her until he was close enough he could touch her.

He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her over for injuries, “Are you okay? What happened.”

Darcy’s expression sobered. “Right. You felt that.” She pulled up the edge of her tank top on the left side, and Bucky had to fight the antiquated instinct inside him that told him to look away. But she only pulled it high enough to show the bottom edge of the medical tape that wrapped around her ribs there. “Our van got rear ended while we were on our way out. I’m fine, just a couple bruised ribs.”

“You’re fine? Nothing else is hurt?” He demanded, running his hands further down her arms as if to feel for damage.

“I’m fine, Bucky. Really.”

He was so relieved that he didn’t even stop to think about his next move before he was already leaning in and crashing his lips into hers. Bucky brought his right hand up to cradle the back of her head and he felt Darcy tilt her chin up to better the angle of the kiss. They pulled away a few seconds later, and only then did he realize what exactly he’d done. He was about to apologize for being so forward, or say something -- anything at all -- but Darcy beat him to it.

“Well...that was new,” she stated bluntly.

“Darcy...I’m sorry, I just --” But he didn’t get to finish his apology before she was leaning up on her toes to press her mouth to his once more, effectively shutting him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  ***Just pretend his hair's a little longer


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys. People. Humans. My loveliest favorites.
> 
> Everything is insane right now. Last week I took the bus from Chicago to Ohio, then drove from Ohio to North Carolina - where I remembered (the fun way) how allergic I am to most sunscreens - then drove BACK to Ohio yesterday. And now, on Thursday I'm flying to Florida to go to GeekyCon, before finally, eventually, ending up back in Chicago again.
> 
> Also, I'm busy prepping for the dance workshop my sister and I are doing while at GeekyCon (Dance Against The Dark Arts), AND I found out that my application for GeekyCon's Open Mic was accepted, so I've been choreographing and finishing my costume for that... *whew*.
> 
> So here's a chapter before things get even more insane ;) Also, give me a shout out in the comments if any of you lovely humans are going to be at Geeky!

Bucky had kissed her.

And she had kissed him back.

And then she had kissed him again.

It had been a pretty busy day.

Eventually, they made it off the roof and down to the medical floor so Darcy could get her ribs looked at. Lance Hunter had also ended up with a pretty nasty cut on his forehead that needed to be stitched up, so Coulson met with the team in the clinic to debrief. Bucky was waiting out in the hallway with Steve and Sam who had both shown up to welcome the team back and to check on Darcy. She knew that Steve and Bucky’s enhanced hearing probably meant that they could hear everything being said in the debriefing, which was likely part of why they were camped out near the door.

“So what happened after you got back to the vehicles?” Coulson asked, recording all the details on a slim tablet.

Agent May spoke up, “Skye was able to put in the code to reopen the gate so we could get both the SUV and our van through, but we were driving too fast to re-enter the code to close the gate again.”

“We lost range too quickly,” Agent Bobbi Morse added.

Hunter threw his hands up and glared at Bobbi, “Pardon me, but when people throw themselves into the back of my van, slam the doors, and yell ‘Drive fast!’ I tend to take that order at face value.” He snarked in his lilting accent.

“I’m not saying it was your fault.” The blonde woman shot back, leaning forward in her chair and crossing her arms defensively. Occasionally Darcy forgot that Hunter and Agent Morse used to be married, but they always eventually reminded her...and everyone else within earshot.

“That’s a first!”

“I swear to god --”

“ _Anyways,_ ” Skye, interrupted the bickering exes from where she sat on the floor, her laptop still sitting on top of her folded legs, “We couldn’t close the gate behind us, so the last couple of Hydra operatives were able to follow us. They were gaining on us and then rammed into the back of the van. That was when Lewis rolled down the passenger window and started firing at them.”

Coulson looked at her then, “Agent Lewis?”

Darcy shrugged, “Yeah well, it was either that or get run off the road. So I stuck my head out the window--”

“Your head?” Hunter interjected, “You stuck half your body out that bloody window. I had to grab your feet so you wouldn’t fly out.”

Darcy rolled her eyes and pushed on. She was eager to finish up the debrief to she could shower and sleep. “Whatever. I’m hanging out the window trying to get a good shot when those bastards rear end us again. That’s when I got messed up,” She gestured to her taped up torso. “Smashed me against the window frame. Anyway, after I got my shit together again I was able to get a decent shot at the tires and blew them out. Those Hydra assholes ran off the road and crashed into a tree, and we were able to make it back to the quinjet.”

“It wasn’t a bad shot.” Agent May said in her typical deadpan, but the corner of her mouth twitched up just slightly enough to hint at the emotion underneath.

They finished up the debrief, and Hunter finished getting stitched up. Darcy had already been x-rayed and taped back up by the doctors in the clinic, so as soon as they were done she got up somewhat carefully and made her way into the hallway.

“Hey Steve, hey Sam.” She smiled at the other two men.

“Hey Darcy,” Steve greeted her, leaning over to hug her.

“Just be careful,” She warned him, but still welcomed the hug. “I’m a little sore.”

“Right. Of course.” Steve offered her a smile.

“How you feelin’ Short Stack?” Sam asked, going in for a cautious hug after Steve had released her.

“I’m a little banged up, but it’s been an okay day.” She said with a tired smile.

“I’ll say,” Sam replied, glancing pointedly at Bucky for a moment, who glared back at him. “I hear you kicked ass on your first field op.”

“Agent May complimented the shot I made, so I’m considering that setting the bar pretty high.”

“Really?” Sam asked, his tone colored with disbelief. “That Agent May is a tough nut to crack. Sounds like a glowing review to me.”

“That’s what I thought,” Darcy said, then yawned widely and placed a hand on Bucky’s arm. “Okay, I need a shower and I need sleep. I’ll see you boys tomorrow.” She nodded to Sam and Steve who wished her a good night then headed out.

Once they were a few steps away Darcy turned to Bucky who was still standing beside her, “Walk me home, soldier?”

“That’s ‘Sergeant,’ ma’am.” He countered with a wink and offered her his arm.

She gave an exhausted laugh and tucked her arm into his to walk toward the elevators.

“I hear you half jumped out of a moving vehicle today,” Bucky said once the elevator doors had closed and they were ascending the ten or so floors from the medical wing to the floor where Darcy and Jane shared their new apartment.

“I didn’t jump out of anything,” Darcy said with a roll of her eyes. “I had to lean out the window to take out the car behind us.”

“Uh huh.” Bucky’s eyebrow was sky high as he appraised her skeptically.

The elevator stopped and he gestured for her to step off first. They made their way down the hall until they reached her door.

“Maybe try to keep the hanging-out-of-speeding-cars thing to a minimum?” He asked, coming to a stop in front of her door. He held her gently by the elbows, and she rested both her hands on top of his forearms.

“You worried about me, Sergeant?” Darcy asked taking a half a step closer to him.

“Maybe a little bit, doll.” He slid his arms around her waist.

She tilted her head up, “Hmm. I’ll see what I can do about that in the future.”

“You do that.” He settled, then leaned his head down to capture her lips.

She was tired enough that she let him take full control of the kiss. This time, it was slow and gentle, and Darcy melted into his touch, parting her lips slightly so he could brush his tongue against her own. She felt his grip on her waist tighten as he pulled her closer, and he really took the time to explore her mouth. By the time they pulled apart, Darcy was more than a little breathless and Bucky leaned his forehead against hers while they both caught their breath.

“Goodnight, doll.” He smiled and unwrapped her from his arms so she could open her door.

“Night, Sarge.” She replied, leaning in the doorway.

“Get some sleep.”

She grinned sleepily, “I’m so tempted right now to say, ‘make me,’ but I really am so tired I might fall over.”

Bucky laughed and waved her off. “Go. Sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You got it, soldier.”

“Sergeant.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

*

Bucky couldn’t stop smiling. Steve and Sam both immediately knew what was up when he met them for their morning run (Steve and Bucky would hold back a bit for Sam’s sake, but still set a pace that could challenge him a little -- then when Sam hit his non-superhuman limit, he would head back while Bucky and Steve would pick up the pace for a few miles).

“So...” Sam prompted when they had first set out.

“So what?” Bucky responded, being intentionally obtuse in the hopes they might just drop the subject.

“Buck,” Steve said, “You walked Darcy to her door last night, and you can’t stop smiling.”

“Please tell me you made a move.” Sam pleaded.

Bucky glanced at his feet as they pounded rhythmically on the pavement and tried to tamp down a grin. “I might have made a move before that, fellas.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up, “You did not!”

“When you ran up to the helipad?”

Bucky gave up trying to hold back the smile, “It kind of just happened. I didn’t really think about it.”

“Spontaneous. My man. What a charmer.” Sam nodded in appreciation.

“So?” Steve asked.

“So what?” Bucky shrugged.

“You gonna see her today, or what?”

“I was thinking about taking her to lunch.”

Sam wiggled his eyebrows at him,“You gonna go somewhere that’s _all you can eat?_ ”

“Stop it.” Bucky shot him a glare.

“Do you know what her favorite flowers are?” Steve asked.

Bucky nodded, “Tiger lilies. I thought I might get her a few.”

Sam turned his head to glance at them, “Look at you two, bein’ classy and old fashioned. I’m gonna seriously up my game just hangin’ around the two of you. I mean it. I’m gonna be irresistible, thanks to you geezers.”

“This younger generation, man.” Bucky shook his head.

“No respect.” Steve shot back with a grin.

“Kids these days.”

Sam shook his head seriously, “I swear to god if one of you says ‘get off my lawn’ I will turn around right now.”

Steve and Bucky laughed for a whole three blocks.

By the time he and Steve made it back to the tower, he had worked off most of his nervous energy. He texted Darcy about taking her out for lunch and she quickly agreed. Bucky showered and changed and still had enough time to go pick up the flowers for her before the time he had set to pick her up.

When Darcy answered the door, she looked beautiful, and he took a moment to really take her in. She was wearing a red and white calico sundress and black Chuck Taylors, and her hair was pulled out of her face in a ponytail. She took the bouquet of lilies with a smile and tucked her arm through his while they made their way out of the building and down the street to a little Americana restaurant.

Part of him had been afraid that kissing her would have changed everything, but he found that it was still just as easy to be with her and talk with her. Only now he didn’t have to hold himself back from holding her hand on top of the table while they waited for their food.

When the check came he reached for it automatically, but Darcy offered to pay. He turned her down, telling her that his _mama didn’t raise no mook,_ but she insisted that _her_ mama _didn’t raise no anti-feminist._ He laughed at that, then suggested they split the check, to which she agreed.

After lunch she suggested they take a walk through Bryant Park since it was only a few blocks east of them.

He still felt exposed sometimes when he ventured in public, like a raw nerve, ready to feel the sting of anyone’s gaze or accidental contact. But Bucky found that being with Darcy, holding her hand while they walked, helped dull the sharpness of everything until he could feel settled and in control. He was wearing the flesh-toned glove on his metal hand, but she held his hand on that side almost as if she was protecting him from being bumped and jostled by people they passed on the sidewalk. Bucky knew he had been raised in a world so much more heavily patriarchal than the one he lived in now, but he appreciated that she was willing to and wanted to protect him as much as he wanted to protect her. Sometimes he needed that.

He still had flashbacks.

Most of the time when he was training or sparring he was fine. But every now and again he would be taken over by a flashback, and suddenly he was running, killing, not in control of his own body -- until just as suddenly, he was being shaken by Steve or Sam was speaking to him calmly, trying to bring him down and out of his mind and back to reality. They were happening less and less, but they served as a reminder that as far as he had come in his recovery, he still had a ways to go. He might never be free of them, he knew how PTSD worked. Back in his day, they had just called it “shell shock,” and it came with a stigma of being weak and vulnerable. Sam had helped him understand it for what it was, for what the world knew it to be now, and that had helped as well.

But he was determined not to let his PTSD control his life. And now that he had Darcy? Well, he decided then, that he would make every effort to getting better for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my favorite humans! <3
> 
> So traveling went pretty well. Con was great, though now I'm back at work and I have a delightful case of Post-Con Flu (technically tonsillitis, not the flu, but still pretty sucky) :/
> 
> I am so excited about this new chapter, but a quick warning -- maybe don't read it at work... ;) Things get a little fresh. 
> 
> Aaaaand on that note: enjoy!

Darcy knew something had changed in him. She could see the change, in the way that he trained, in the way that he held himself. He seemed more determined.

In the three weeks that had followed their first kiss on the helipad, they hadn’t gone any further than kissing. But Darcy knew that they would move further when Bucky was ready. The last thing she wanted to do was push him, especially when he seemed to be pushing himself to the limit already.

Every moment when he wasn’t spending time with her, he was waking at the crack of dawn to train with Steve, Sam, Natasha, or any other member of the team. He had gone a few rounds with Clint, and had sparred with Thor a few times when he hadn’t been off-world. There was even one occasion when he went up against Agent May, which had been an interesting match up.

But she knew he wasn’t always as fine as he tried to make himself out to be.

One night Darcy woke suddenly with a yelp, to a sharp stinging sensation running through her right hand. As soon as she had turned on the light and gotten her bearings, she inspected her hand for the source of the pain. There on the side and extending onto the palm was a long pink welt. When she prodded at it, it stung like a cut, but it didn’t bleed.

Bucky.

Darcy threw back the covers, not even bothering to grab her glasses, and ran out of her apartment. She knew Steve and Bucky’s place was two floors up from her’s and Jane’s, and as soon as the elevator doors opened on their floor she was down the hallway like a shot. She pounded on the door until a groggy looking pajama-clad Steve opened it, stifling a yawn behind his hand.

“Darcy? What’s wrong?”

She held up her hand, which still sported the pink mark. “Bucky?”

“Shoot,” Steve was alert in an instant and pushed open the front door for her to enter. Then she was following Steve as he jogged across the wide living room where he stopped and pounded on a closed door, with a panic to match Darcy’s only moments before. “Bucky?” He shouted, then turned the knob to open it.

Steve flicked on the lights, and only one lamp came on across the room. But it was plenty of light to see the broken glass shards and slightly crumpled shade of another lamp lying on the ground beside the bed. Bucky was still asleep in the bed, tossing and turning restlessly. His right hand was flung out to the side, dripping blood onto the hardwood floor from a cut that matched Darcy’s.

“Shit,” Darcy said, taking a step forward. But Steve put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

“You’d better let me. Sometimes he panics when he wakes up.”

Steve crept up to the side of the bed, careful to avoid the debris from the broken lamp. “Buck. Bucky, wake up.” He shook the other man’s shoulder gently.

In the next second, vibranium fingers closed themselves in a vice grip around Steve’s wrist as Bucky jerked awake and sat up suddenly. But a moment later recognition flashed in his eyes and he relaxed, releasing Steve, though Darcy could see the clear red marks from his metal fingers still on Steve’s arm.

“Hey, Buck. You were having a nightmare.”

Bucky nodded, his bare chest still heaving, “Yeah, I --” That’s when he noticed Darcy still standing just inside the doorway. “Darcy...”

She held up her hand in answer, and he took in the long red gash and panic filled his expression for a moment.

“Darcy! What did you...” Bucky began until he glanced down at his own hand and saw the cut, still dripping blood onto the sheets. He finally noticed the broken lamp on the ground. Realization dawned on him, and she could see all the information begin knitting itself together in his mind.

“You woke me up, Sarge.” She said with a sedated smile as she finally moved toward him. She was cautious to step around all the broken pieces of glass on the ground.

Steve glanced at her bare feet. “Why don’t I go get something to clean all this up?” He said, edging around the mess again to leave the room.

Darcy sat on the edge of Bucky’s bed and she took his right hand in hers, looking closely at the torn flesh, “It doesn’t look like you got any glass in the cut. That’s good.” She gathered the edge of the already bloodstained sheet and wrapped it around his palm.

“I’m sorry, doll. I’m sorry I woke you. I never wanted you to see all this...”

She silenced him by pressing her lips to his. “Don’t worry about it, Bucky. You have to deal with it, so at least let me help you if I can. That’s what I’m here for.” She gave him a smile.

Steve came back then, carrying a dustpan and brush, and a first aid kit. He swept up the pieces of glass and cleaned the blood from the floor while Darcy tended to Bucky’s hand. And by the time she’d gotten him patched up, Steve returned to take the bloodstained sheet as well, bringing them several spare blankets to replace it.

Darcy snuggled up beside Bucky on the bed, tucking herself into his side.

“You don’t have to stay.” He said hesitantly.

She tilted her head up to look at him, “Do you want me to go?”

Bucky took a carefully measured breath before answering, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Darcy chose to change the subject then, “What were you dreaming about? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to...I just thought it might help to talk.”

“That’s what Sam’s always tellin’ me.” He chuckled dryly. He took another breath, this time as if to steel himself against his answer, “I was...I was on the helicarrier with Steve in DC. He...I was trying so hard to fight it -- what they put in my head -- I was trying to stop myself. And I...”

Darcy pushed herself upright so she could meet his gaze, “You did. You did fight it, and you’re still fighting it. It’s an uphill battle, but you’re getting there. Every day I can see it.”

“You sure you want to stick yourself with all this baggage?” Bucky asked somewhat skeptically.

“Just call me ‘bellhop.’” She joked, and he chuckled again, this time in earnest. “Just don’t forget to tip.”

“Here’s a tip, doll. Go to sleep.” He wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

She stuck her tongue out at him, then asked, “Aren’t you going to sleep?”

“I will...I’m just still a little...” He trailed off.

Darcy moved her hand to cup the square line of his jaw so he would look at her. “Hey, I’m right here.”

“Yeah. Thanks, doll.” He nodded and kissed the top of her head, then tightened his grip around her shoulders as she settled against him once more.

*

When Bucky awoke in the morning, he knew that something felt different. He immediately took in the weight on his chest that was Darcy, and the steady rise and fall of her ribcage beneath his cybernetic hand. The hypersensitive plates were automatically relaying all sorts of information to his brain, like the rhythm of her pulse which was slow and steady, and the temperature of her skin which was slightly warmer than normal. But as different (and wonderful) as the feel of her sleeping beside him was, it wasn’t the thing that felt strange. It took him almost a full minute to realize that it was because he actually felt rested for once.

Bucky realized that somehow he had slept soundly through the rest of the night. Even the nights when his nightmares and vivid dreams didn’t wake him, he still slept fitfully, tossing and turning, and not getting a whole lot of real rest. So having several hours of uninterrupted sleep was new and unique for him.

Later, after Darcy had woken and returned to her apartment to get ready for the day, he had to get ready, himself. There was a meeting in the Avenger’s briefing room, and he’d started sitting in on such meetings several weeks before. The team had established a general desire to start including him on missions when he was ready, and that end seemed to be approaching rapidly. One of the main topics of discussion at that particular meeting was how Bucky was going to be joining the team in all future Avengers training maneuvers.

He felt a nervous thrill at the prospect of getting back into the field, but this time, to be fighting under his own power and autonomy, for causes he believed in.

*

 

As if Bucky hadn’t been working himself hard before, with the news that he would be joining the Avengers team in both their training maneuvers and, before long, on field ops, he was spending almost every moment he wasn’t with her training in the gym, or honing his weapons skills. The flip side to that turn of events was that it was helping to encourage Darcy to train harder, herself. She had gotten into the habit of waking early to run on the treadmill in the gym, then spend some time in the indoor shooting range to work on her own weapons skills, or sharpening her hand-to-hand technique with agent May and Agent Skye -- the latter of whom was much on the same level as Darcy was, in terms of training.

Jane had reluctantly gone through the same mandatory routine of extra training, but since she worked primarily in the labs, she didn’t have the same need to keep up her physical skills like Darcy did. Though, Darcy smirked, since Thor had been back on Earth for the last week or so, she figured the two of them were keeping each other in shape pretty well.

Darcy had spent several nights with Bucky since the night he had cut his hand, but their physical relationship still hadn’t progressed past making out like teenagers, and sleeping tucked together beneath the sheets -- but that was the _only_ thing happening under the sheets so far.

The night before she hadn’t been able to spend with him because Coulson had kept her and Skye up writing code for a new trojan horse program he planned to plant in as many Hydra servers as they could manage. Planting the program would mean Darcy going on more field missions since she and Skye were the only two people Coulson trusted with getting the program installed.

Darcy was exhausted from the late night, but dragged herself out of bed and somehow made it down to the gym. It didn’t escape her notice that Bucky was already there, over on the open mats and sparring with Steve. It also didn’t escape her notice that after stepping onto one in the long row of treadmills to start her workout, she had the perfect vantage point from which to watch them practicing.

She watched them fight with cat-like precision. When Steve would take a step, Bucky would mirror it, always staying in line with him. When Bucky would swipe high, Steve would duck -- their reflexes both so impressively fast that it was more like watching a choreographed routine full of near-misses and close calls. But every few moves, a punch would land, or a kick would make contact, with a force that Darcy was almost certain would knock the wind out of anyone who wasn’t pumped up with super-soldier serum.

They were so in tune, that it took Darcy a moment to realize when something went wrong. The clear focus in Bucky’s eyes glazed over, and his strikes became harder, faster, and more intentioned, as if he was trying to hurt Steve rather than just contend with him. The plates shifted in his arm as he swung back, recalibrating for a knockout blow when Steve saw it coming and ducked under his arm. Steve was able to get his arms around Bucky’s shoulders and neck in a full-nelson. He only had to shout Bucky’s name once in his ear before the glassiness in his eyes was gone, replaced by a terrible mixture of panic and disappointment.

Darcy had stopped the treadmill by that point.

But as soon as Steve let him go Bucky stood immediately and stalked straight across the gym to the locker rooms. He pushed the door open so hard that Darcy was almost surprised when it didn’t break off its hinges. Steve stared after him for a moment, before glancing over at Darcy and meeting her gaze. In some sort of unspoken decision between the two of them, she got off the treadmill and followed the path Bucky had taken over to the locker rooms.

When Darcy pushed open the door she heard the pattering of running water. She turned the corner but didn’t see him near the bay of sinks, so she walked further in, looking for him.

When she finally saw him, he was standing in the arch of a shower stall, not yet under the water that was running behind him. Steam rising and filling the space. He was leaning forward, with his vibranium hand pressed against the wall above his head. The other hand was tangled in his hair as he breathed heavily, and Darcy could see the flex of muscles beneath his sweat-damp t-shirt as his chest rose and fell with the effort.

She took a step closer, “Bucky.” It only took that one word before he was turning to her and crushing his mouth against hers. It was desperate and far from delicate, as their teeth clacked together and Darcy made a surprised sound at the intensity of the kiss. But it only took a moment for her to regain her bearings, and she threw herself against him, his arms snaking around her to press the lines of their bodies together.

He pushed her against the tiled wall, and she felt the cool surface against her shoulders in stark contrast to the warm air and the heat of his body. His mouth still worked in unison with hers, but his hands left her waist to slide over the curves of her body, stopping when they found the round swells of her breasts. He kneaded the flesh gently through her top and she rewarded him my moaning into his mouth.

But when Darcy felt the hard line of his erection pressed against her hip through their clothing, she pulled back, “Bucky, are you sure.” He responded by leaning in to kiss her again, just as fiercely as before. But she needed to know for certain. “Bucky?” She pulled away and asked again.

She met his gaze and saw his blue eyes shot nearly black with desire as he answered, “Yes.” Then just a hint of uncertainty as he asked, “Are you…?”

Darcy nodded her head insistently,“Yes. God, yes.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth his expression darkened once more with carnal desire, and his lips were back on hers. His tongue flitting out to stroke hers, until she lifted the hem of her shirt and broke their kiss, to pull it over her head. She felt the cool metal of his cybernetic hand as it traced the bare skin of her stomach, and she didn’t waste any time pushing down the waistband of her spandex leggings until she could kick them off completely. A moment later his hands tucked themselves beneath her thighs so he could hoist her up. The sudden movement jostled them both and made him have to sidestep to keep them both upright, finally pushing them beneath the spray of the shower, but neither of them cared. Darcy merely wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and renewed her efforts at getting them both naked.

She pulled on the fabric of his t-shirt and they both shifted so she could pull the half-soaked material over his head and discard it. The next thing to go was her sports bras which were tossed away with the same disregard as the rest. He pressed her harder against the wall with his body so he could let go of her with his cybernetic hand, which he brought up to cup the heavy weight of a breast. Again, his fingertips drew against her skin like he was learning the shape of her through the metal, and it sent a shiver of need running down her spine. Bucky ducked his head to kiss the corner of her jaw, and he continued kissing a path down her throat, nipping at the ridge of her collarbone, before continuing down until he could take one rosy pink nipple into his mouth.

Darcy gasped when he rolled and traced over it with his tongue, catching it between his teeth and giving it a light tug that sent a jolt straight to her core. When he lifted his head again, his wet hair was plastered against his face, and she pushed it out of his eyes and met his stare. The look there was so full of want that it made her stomach clench with a fresh wave of desire for him.

She used her heels to push down on the waistband of Bucky’s jersey shorts and he took the hint, shifting her again so that he could work the shorts down his legs. She squirmed in his grip when he pushed her panties aside, and she felt him line up with her, the blunt head of his cock pushing against her wet entrance.

“Bucky,” she choked out, “please.”

And then her breath caught in her throat as he breached her entrance and pushed up into her in one long stroke. Bucky made a rumbling noise from somewhere deep in his chest and Darcy threw her head back, not caring when it hit against the tile of the wall. All she cared about was the feel of him seated inside her, then dragging out again, lighting up her nerve endings and coursing pleasure through her body.

She readjusted her grip on his shoulders, the water pounding against his back making his skin slick, and she had to curl her fingers into the dips and valleys of his muscles to find purchase. He thrust into her, setting a steady rhythm, and he tucked his face into her neck where she could feel the hot bursts of his breath against her damp skin. A few moments later he lifted his head and dragged the sharp slope of his nose lightly against the line of her jaw until she could feel his breath against her pulse point.

“Darcy,” He breathed her name against her, and she felt the stirrings of her orgasm begin to build inside her.

She dug her nails into his back as she drew closer to her peak, a soft keening escaping her throat each time he bottomed out inside her. Darcy’s eyes went wide as he pushed her over the edge and her orgasm hit, pulling the air from her lungs as her muscles fluttered and convulsed around him. Bucky kept pushing through her release, and several strokes later his hips stilled, and a shudder ran through his body as she felt the hot rush of him coming inside her.

They stood there for a few moments, the water running over both of them as they caught their breath. Several seconds later Darcy felt him move so he could rest his forehead against hers. He leaned in to kiss her gently, and when he pulled away there was a contented smile on his face that matched the one on hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, you beautiful humans!
> 
> So I couldn't help myself - I had to add another chapter today! I know it sounds like fishing, but I swear it's the truth - Your amazing and wonderful responses and comments truly make me write faster. I feel the love, and it inspires me! So thank you for always being my inspiration <3 
> 
> Also, if you're following _I Just Can't Stand to See You Leaving,_ I promise, I am almost done with the final chapter! I'm sad to see that fun story come to an end, and so I think I'm dragging my heels a bit. But I swear it's almost finished!

Bucky was feeling stronger than ever.

He was training with the Avengers team, and honing his skills almost every day. His nightmares were no longer controlling his ability to sleep, he figured, thanks to Darcy’s presence in his bed almost every night. It wasn’t always sex (though there was a lot of that too), but the weight of her beside him grounded him so he could rest.

Darcy had developed a habit of skating her fingertips lightly against his chest while they were lying together, or as she was falling asleep -- particularly along the jagged lines of scar tissue where the plates of his cybernetic shoulder met his flesh. At first, it had bothered him. He didn’t like the idea of exposing her to the ugliest parts of him. But she adamantly reassured him that it wasn’t ugly, only different and that she adored every inch of him. He didn’t quite believe it just yet, but he was starting to enjoy the feeling of her tracing the shape of him as they both drifted off.

And most mornings he woke with his vibranium arm wrapped around her -- already sending his brain information about her vitals and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

That morning, though, he woke to the tinny sound of a ringtone, but he kept his eyes shut hoping that it might just go away. Beside him, he felt Darcy shift and groan as she reached for her phone on the nightstand.

“Hello,” She answered groggily. “Oh, Coulson.” She sat up, immediately more alert. “Yeah. Okay. I will. I’ll be right there.”

He shifted to sit up against the headboard and rolled his shoulder as the plates in his left arm started recalibrating, “What’s Coulson want?”

Darcy pushed the comforter off of her and stood up, giving him a pretty fantastic view as she stretched, arching her back slightly, “He says they’ve located a Hydra base that he thinks will make a perfect target for our new trojan horse program.” She picked up her panties and bra from the floor where they had landed the night before. “He’s briefing the team in thirty minutes.”

Bucky reached out and caught her hand, giving her a salacious smirk. “Then you’ve got ages.” He pulled her back toward him, and she fell against him, “Why don’t you come over here and I can help you kill a little time.”

“Bucky...” She complained, but didn’t argue or pull away when he kissed her. But several moments later they were interrupted by the sound of Bucky’s phone ringing. 

“Shit.” He said, reluctantly pulling apart from her to answer the damn thing. He looked at the screen and saw who was calling before answering. “What is it, Steve?”

_“Coulson’s calling us in. They’ve got an op that they need a few extra sets of hands on.”_

Darcy had extracted herself from his arms by then and had set about trying to find her shirt. Bucky put away his disappointment at losing a few precious moments with Darcy to focus on what Steve was telling him. “Are you sure?” He asked Steve seriously. 

_“He specifically requested you. He needs a sharpshooter.”_

Bucky glanced at Darcy, who was still searching for her shirt, “Then I’m on it.”

Steve was quiet for a moment on the other end of the line, and then he finally said, _“Are_ you _sure, Buck?”_

Darcy, having found her shirt, met his gaze then and gave him somewhat sleepy, but affectionate smile.

“Yeah. I’m sure.” Bucky answered.

*

Darcy ended up only being four minutes late to the briefing -- which she considered impressive, seeing as in the interim she found her clothes, and had a quick shower with Bucky, during which he still managed to get her to orgasm twice. So far a productive day, and it was only five thirty-four in the morning.

“Thanks for joining us, Agent Lewis,” Coulson said, raising an eyebrow when she waltzed in. 

“No probs, Director.” She said with a grin. She looked around at the rest of the people in the room, and saw that it was just Coulson’s team -- May, Skye, Bobbi, Mack, and Hunter -- minus Fitzsimmons who had been ensconced in the labs with Jane for several days, working on some new project that even Stark had become invested in. 

“As I was explaining to the rest of the team, we’ve found a Hydra base in northern Wyoming that should be the perfect location to plant our new program. So far our intel shows that they have quite a few pieces of tech from the raid that Agent Ward and Agent Garrett led on the Fridge.”

“Not a bad place to start.” Darcy agreed, plopping into the empty chair beside Skye. 

“My thoughts, exactly. But we need to be careful on this one. We need to blend in. In order for the program to work successfully, it needs to run uninterrupted for long enough that we can start mapping their network. Which means no dropping in with fireworks and guns blazing.” He looked somewhat pointedly at Hunter.

“What?” The scruffy man shrugged defensively. 

But Coulson moved on quickly, “We’ll be using nano masks to get Lewis and Skye through the doors, and we’ll have the rest of you planted throughout the building helping to make sure that no one gets in their way. The base is located in the mountains, and I’ve asked several of the Avengers to cover us from above, but they’ll be staying back and only there if we need emergency extraction or assistance.”

Agent May crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, “What _is_ our extraction plan?”

Hunter was quick to interject then, “Yeah, because last time that didn’t go so smoothly.” 

“Like that was the Director’s fault,” Bobbi said, rolling her eyes. 

“Suck up.” Hunter shot back.

Bobbi leaned forward and stared him down, “Child.”

“Guys.” Darcy held up a hand to stop them mid-argument, then gestured to Coulson, “He’s making the face. Get some counseling.”

Coulson simply raised an eyebrow and continued, answering May’s question, “Extraction is simple enough. In order for the base to blend in, there aren’t any big metal fences or other markers that would shout ‘suspicious.’ The area is surrounded by motion sensors set underground, but there’s a flaw in the system. When the sensors get tripped, it sets off an alarm to the security system that runs until a code is input to reset them individually -- a process which takes between five and eight minutes. If they were to all get tripped at the same time, we could get you back across the border of sensors without tripping any additional alarms.”

“Because they would already be going off.” Skye nodded. “It’s hard to detect a fire if the fire alarms have already been going off for a while.”

“Exactly. This base was a former SHIELD base, so luckily we know a bit about the technical layout of the building. The sensors are all controlled by a power box on the exterior of the main building, and we have reports that sometimes extremes in temperature or weather conditions would set off the sensors simultaneously. The system is nearly thirty years old, and to our knowledge hasn’t been replaced in that time, so it could easily be chalked up to a systems malfunction.”

Mack chimed in then, “Practical question. How are we going to trip all the alarms at the same time if we’re trying to get out without the fireworks and guns?”

Coulson leaned back in his chair as he explained, “I’m going to have a sharpshooter stationed outside the base, just out of range of the sensors. When you’re ready for extraction, you will send them the signal and they will take care of tripping the alarms.”

“Who’s the sniper?” Skye asked.

“Sergeant Barnes.”

Hunter’s eyebrows shot up, “Wow. He ready for this?”

Darcy leveled the full strength of her deadliest glare at him.

But Coulson jumped to Bucky’s defense, “I have full confidence that Sergeant Barnes is up to the task. I would encourage you to share that confidence.”

“Just asking, Boss.” Hunter defended, putting his hands up innocently.

Coulson moved on quickly, “Any other questions?”

*

“You good man?” Sam asked, laying a hand on his shoulder. The secondary team was getting all their gear together for the mission, and they were supposed to be leaving any minute. 

Bucky ignored the flock of butterflies that had taken up residence in his gut and nodded his head. “Yeah, I’m good.” 

“Just checking. You seem good.” Sam gave him an encouraging grin, and Bucky returned it with a tight smile. 

Thor, who was tightening the straps of his armor, interjected, “If I might be so bold to assume. You are glad to be able to keep an eye on your lady, are you not?”

“That crossed my mind, yeah.” He answered, giving the blonde warrior a knowing look.

“I, too, understand that feeling.” Thor said clapping a hand on Bucky’s back, “I am always more at ease when I am able to be near my Jane. But I am sure that you have little to worry about. Your lady, Darcy, is quite formidable -- indeed, she has bested me a time or two.”

Sam looked up, suddenly curious. “Really, man?”

Steve chuckled at the look on Sam’s face, “You haven’t heard that story?”

Bucky smiled in spite of his anxiety, thinking of the story that was a favorite of Darcy’s to tell. “It’s a pretty good story.”

“Perhaps for another time.” Thor looked suddenly more hesitant to have such attention on his failings.

But Steve saved him the trouble, cutting in, and refocusing his attention on Bucky, “Thor’s probably right. You don’t have much to worry about. Darcy can handle herself.”

He sighed, “I know you’re right. But still...”

“It’ll be nice to not be watching and waiting from far away, huh?” Steve said in a lower tone. 

“Something like that.”

“It’ll be okay, Buck,” Steve reassured him, bumping his shoulder against Bucky’s.

“Maybe keep telling me that,” Bucky replied, bumping Steve back.

“You got it.”

“Gentlemen,” Coulson said, breezing into the locker room. 

“Director.” Steve stood a little straighter.

“The jet is ready to go. Wheels up in five. Everyone clear on their orders?”

Sam nodded and ran through the plan they had been briefed on, “They go in. We set up a perimeter. Barnes lines up for the shot and waits for the signal. Once they send us the word, he sets off the alarms, our people get out, and hopefully nobody needs us.”

Coulson gave them a terse smile, “Yes. Good. And like I said, wheels up in five.”

They all quickly finished prepping strapping armor and kevlar into place. Checking the magazines of guns, and making sure all of their weapons were ready to go. Bucky’s arm ran through a short series of diagnostic recalibrations, each plate lifting and setting itself back into place in succession. And soon they all filed out onto the helipad and boarded the quinjet. 

Bucky saw that Darcy was already aboard, dressed in tac gear that he recognized -- not as SHIELD’s, but as Hydra’s standard issue. He suppressed the sudden combination of fear and anger that bubbled up at the sight of the red octopus emblem stitched over her left breast, and he ran through a short breathing exercise that Sam had taught him that calmed him down quickly.

This was part of the plan.

She was going undercover.

She would be fine. He would make sure of it.

Darcy was already seated, and both seats on either side of her were occupied by members of Coulson’s usual team, so Bucky sat directly across from her instead. Steve sat on his right and Sam on his left, and he followed their lead when they both started buckling themselves in for the ride. Agent May started the jet and began running through her pre-flight checks, with Mack in the co-pilot’s seat.

He felt eyes on him and he turned back to see Darcy staring at him from across the jet, and when he met her gaze she gave him a focused smile. This was her in mission mode, he realized -- a little more collected, and a touch more restrained than her usual self. But he was glad to see the difference. It meant she was focused on the mission, and it made him that much more confident in her ability to stay alert and safe.

After all, he could only do so much to ensure her safety -- the rest was up to her and the people around her. Not that he didn’t trust them, either. But it suddenly occurred to him just how much he had to lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> PS. Come hang out with me on Tumblr! I'm "@dftbalicia11," and "@gryffindancer" over yonder.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there, my lovelies <3
> 
> I have to include a shout out to HKThauer for her constant encouragement<3 She is amazing, and she is also completely responsible for this story existing in the first place!
> 
> So, quick side note: I know I said the final chapter of _I just Can't Stand to See You Leaving_ was almost finished, and IT IS! It's just giving me some real trouble, and I still think it's my subconscious not wanting to be finished with that story yet. Well, that and the fact that I've got some family in town and staying with me right now, so I haven't had a ton of time to write... But it is on its way - I swear on the future of the Black Widow movie (which, if you even _knew_ my love for Black Widow - despite the fact that I curiously never write her in my fics except as a supporting character - you would understand the severity of this)!
> 
> Also, a quick trigger warning for some very, very mild self-harm - it's about halfway through, and I usually try to be very aware of trigger warnings, but I didn't even think to add the tag until the chapter had been up for a couple hours! My sincerest apologies for that! I wasn't even thinking :/ 
> 
> But all that aside - Here's some Darcy and Bucky being awesome :) (Perhaps don't read this chapter in public...)

The thing that nobody told Darcy about wearing a nano mask, was that they itched. The moving visage was held in place by some seriously complex code, and that sort of kept the entire thing running with constant tiny vibrations. And it was making her face itch.

They had touched down a full three miles outside of the Hydra base to keep themselves off of the base’s radar. From there, the secondary team had gone off to set the perimeter around the base, just outside the range of the sensors which they were keeping track of via GPS trackers.

Meanwhile, the primary team had driven from there in a stolen Hydra truck that was supposed to be delivering some new piece of tech to the base. Mack was driving, while Skye and Darcy were sitting beside him in the front, all three of them already set in their nano masks and fake identities. Agents May and Morse, and Hunter were hidden in the back of the truck until they passed the appropriate security checkpoints with their phony credentials. Once in the motor bay, the other agents hopped out of the truck, secured their own nano masks and went off to their arranged points to keep an eye out for any sort of trouble that might head towards Skye and Darcy while they installed the trojan horse program. Mack would stay in the back of the truck, to keep an eye on them all via GPS trackers in their uniforms.

Darcy and Skye swiped their phony badges, and just as Coulson had assured them, they did, in fact, open the door to the main building. And Darcy and Skye stepped inside, both carefully arranging their expressions beneath the nano masks to look as if they belonged there. They passed several Hydra agents as they moved through the hallways, and when one of them gave her a tiny nod, it took her a moment to realize that it was actually Hunter wearing his own nano mask.

As they made their way past him and further down the hall, Darcy heard the click of her comm coming to life.

“Looks like I scared you there, Lewis. You alright?” Hunter chuckled under his breath.

“Yeah, Hunter. I was a little scared for a second, but then I realized it was just the sight of your face.”

Skye had to stifle a laugh and struggled to keep her expression serious.

“I’d be more insulted if I was wearing my own face right now.”

“Can you all please focus on the mission?” May’s voice came through the comms.

“Yep. Got it. I think this is the room. Mack, can you confirm?”

“Yeah, that should be it. Your badges should get you in, no worries. Doesn’t look like there’s anyone in there right now, so you’re all clear.”

“Thanks, Mack,” Skye said, swiping her badge on the reader beside the door. A second later the lock clicked, and she was able to push open the door.

“Nice! We’re in!” Darcy said under her breath as they stepped into the room and shut the door behind them. "You're the best, Mack."

“Age...ewis, I ca...aer you...ome in...”

Darcy pressed the side of her comm and tried to get the line to clear. “Mack? Can you hear me? Mack! Shit.”

Skye was already sitting at one of the monitors and held the flash drive with the trojan horse program in her hand. “Please do not tell me that our comms are down.”

Darcy gave a guilty shrug, “Okay, I won’t tell you then.”

“Shit. There must be something in here scrambling the frequency.” Skye looked around frantically.

“Maybe they’ve got something running on the same frequency?” Darcy suggested.

“Crap. Okay. I’ll deal with trying to figure out how to send them the signal, you install the program.” The taller woman stood and shoved the flashdrive into Darcy's hand. 

“Got it.” Darcy nodded, and then quickly sat down to get to work. She plugged the flash drive into the computer and started typing the specific lines of code needed to install the program.

She had been at it for nearly six minutes when Skye threw up her hands in frustration. “Ugh! I can’t find anything that looks right! How are we gonna get the signal to our people to get back to the motor bay?"

Darcy closed her eyes in defeat, “I have no ide--wait!” Her eyes shot back open as a thought occurred to her, “I might have an idea. I need a pen!”

Skye glanced at the desk spaces around the many computers in the room. “Got one. Here.” She picked up a pen and held out to Darcy, who grabbed at it and yanked the cap off.

Darcy stood and jerked her head towards the computer, “You finish installing the program. It’s almost done.” Then she rolled up her sleeve and started writing on her right forearm.

_Comms down! Need to tell others to get back to rendev. pt._

“Aaand we’re in! Program’s installed.” Skye pulled out the flash drive a moment later.

Darcy sighed. That was one obstacle out of the way. But she soon felt the itching sensation on her skin that meant Bucky was writing back, and within seconds the letters started appearing, just below the message she had written to him.

_Got it. Let them know. Be safe._

Some of the tension in her stomach eased up, and she passed the message along to Skye. “Bucky let the rest of the team know. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

Skye pushed in the chair she had been sitting in, and they left the room. Both agents had to suppress the urge to run back to the motor bay and walked as calmly and normally as they could manage, especially when they had to pass quite a few Hydra agents on their way. But no one detected them, and they were able to reach the motor bay without issue.

As soon as they got back to the truck, they saw that Mack was already back in the driver’s seat, and he informed them that the others were safely in the back.

“I love when we’re not needed for backup,” Hunter said through the comms.

“Shut up. What if something had gone wrong?” Agent Morse shot back.

“Hey,” Hunter defended himself, “I was being serious. I didn’t have to do much today and I still get paid. No one ever believes when I'm being sincere.”

“Uh huh.” The skepticism was thick in Bobbi’s voice.

“Will you two cut it out.” Agent May snapped at them both.

Hunter’s lilting dialect became sweeter, “Yes, ma’am. I live to grow.”

“Christ, Hunter.” Mack had his eyes on the road, so Darcy couldn’t see his entire expression, but she was positive he was rolling his eyes. As soon as they had cleared the garage, he switched channels on his comm, “We’re good! Barnes, take the shot and get us out of here!”

“Gotcha.” Came his reply. 

A second later, a sharp peeling noise rang out through the compound, and as soon as they saw the guards from the security checkpoints running back towards the main part of the base, Mack drove out the way they had come. He was careful not to drive too fast, as to not arouse suspicion -- just drove out like there was nothing amiss. And the moment they had passed the line of sensors some hundred yards out from the final checkpoint, they all let out a collective sigh of relief and Mack leaned on the gas. The whole operation had taken just under an hour. But, that, of course, was the idea -- Get in, install the program, and get out as quickly and subtly as possible.

Darcy leaned back into her seat, pulled the nano mask off and scrubbed her hands over her face. Once they reached the quinjet, they had to wait for a few minutes until the secondary team met them.

Sam landed several feet away and let his wings fold themselves back into the pack. “Nice thinking, Lewis.”

“Yes,” Thor agreed, having just landed, himself, “Quite a clever plan, dear sister.”

“Thanks,” Darcy smiled, “Where’s Bucky and Steve?”

“They should be comin’ up soon,” Sam assured her.

And sure enough, a minute or two later, the two of them cut through the line of trees at a jog, pulling up just in front of the gathered agents.

“Everyone back?” Steve asked, glancing around.

“Yep. Just waitin’ on you two slowpokes.” Sam said with a smirk.

Bucky raised a challenging eyebrow. “Sorry, not all of us have wings, like some people.”

“You sure you don’t need your walker, gramps?”

“Watch who you’re callin’ ‘gramps,’ bird-man.” Bucky shot back.

“Alright, boys. Let’s not get carried away here.” Skye stepped in to mediate. And when she did, Bucky smirked and took the opportunity to finally cross over to Darcy.

“Good work, doll.” He said, wrapping her in a tight hug.

She pulled back so she could look him over, and he rested his hands on her hips. “Thanks, I--” Darcy stopped when she caught sight of his forearm -- the sleeve of his tac jacket pushed up to his elbow. She grabbed his wrist to inspect the angry pink lines there, “Bucky, your arm! What the hell?” There on his forearm were the words he had written back to her, but instead of being written in pen, it looked as if they were scratched into his skin.

“I didn’t have a pen.” He shrugged dismissively.

Darcy’s eyebrows shot up. “So you used, what? Your knife?”

His expression turned a little guilty. “It’ll be gone in a few hours. It’s not hurting you, is it?”

“No.” She made a face, “I guess they’re just scratches...”

“They are. I swear, doll.” Bucky confirmed, “No harm done. And you’re all back safe, so that’s what matters.”

Darcy sighed and leaned into his embrace, relaxing a little as his arms wound around her. She figured she could pick her battles. And super serum definitely had its benefits.

*

It wasn’t long until the two teams had boarded the quinjet once more and were in the air. Darcy sat beside Bucky and leaned against him for the whole trip home. After an hour or so, his vibranium fingers picked up the change in her pulse and breathing rate, and he realized that she had dozed off.

He was right that the scratches would be gone in only a few hours time. They had mostly disappeared even by the time they got back to the tower. He knew Darcy wasn’t completely happy with him for the exact method he had used to communicate back to her, but he truly hadn’t had anything else to use other that the sharp tip of one of his knives. And since her safety was paramount to him, he felt that the end justified the means in this case.

When the quinjet finally settled on the helipad of the tower, Bucky gently shook Darcy awake. Around them, the other members of the team began standing and making their way off the jet.

“Darcy, doll. We’re home.” He said quietly. Steve gave him a quick smile as he followed Thor and Sam down the gangplank of the jet.

She groaned and shifted, burying her face into his shoulder for a moment, before sitting up and stretching her shoulders. “Let’s get this debrief over with. I’m starving.” She unbuckled and stood up, and he did the same.

“We can order some food once we’re done, yeah?”

“Sounds good, Sarge.”

They sat beside each other during the debrief, which was thankfully short -- yet another benefit to such a short and successful mission. The problems took twice as long to discuss and hash out than when things went as planned.

Afterward, Darcy suggested they head down to her apartment since Jane was likely still ensconced in the labs with Tony and Fitzsimmons.

Once they were through the door, Darcy turned and kissed him enthusiastically. But after only a second he froze up, and she pulled back, confusion written across her face.

He grimaced and gestured to her torso, where she was still clad in the tac gear embroidered with the Hydra emblem. “Can you... The jacket -- it’s just a little...”

“Oh, my god. Of course. Here...” She practically tore the jacket off and threw it to the ground, “There. It’s gone.” She kicked it away, and it landed crumpled up in the corner.

“Thanks. I mean, I’m okay. It’s just...”

“A little much?”

“Yeah.” He rested his forehead against hers, grateful that he didn’t need to explain too much. She was more understanding than he deserved. Darcy gave him a smile, but as she did he noticed that she was rubbing her left thumb against her other finger tips on the same hand -- something he’d noticed her doing several times before, but he’d never given it much thought. Though, it did seem like a curious habit. Bucky brushed his hand gently against hers, “Why do you do that?”

“Oh,” Darcy glanced down at her hand as if noting it for the first time. “My fingers get a little numb sometimes. I’m just trying to get the feeling back.”

Her words stopped him, and he felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

“Does...does it ever happen to your other hand?” He asked hesitantly.

Darcy tilted her head, “No, it’s only ever my... left hand.” The same realization seemed to dawn on her then, and her eyes went wide.

“It’s because of me. This...thing,” His vibranium hand became a fist, and he nearly spat out the last word, full of vitriol. Rage flashed through his veins. Hydra just never let him have any peace. The second that he began to feel normal, to feel human, to...love someone, that not only understood him but didn’t hate him despite the terrible things they had felt because of him. Most of the time, he now understood that those things were Hydra’s fault, not his and that he was the victim in all of it.

But _they_ had kept him from dying when he probably should have. _They_ had replaced his mangled human arm with this...monstrosity. _They_ had forced him to become a human weapon, stolen his autonomy and his humanity, and subjected him to unbelievable physical torture and pain. Unwittingly, subjecting Darcy to the same physical pain.

And now?

Now he knew that that wasn’t even the extent of it. It wasn’t over for her as he had thought. A little numbness in her fingers may have seemed like a small thing, but to him, it was indicative of so much more. He couldn’t fix a problem like that. He couldn’t stop it from happening. Even if he tore his cybernetic arm from his shoulder, as he so wanted to in that moment, it wouldn’t stop her from dealing with the lack of feeling in her fingers. She felt that because his original, human, flesh and bone arm was gone, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

Hydra was still fucking with him -- and worse, with the woman he loved -- and he would burn them to the ground for it.

And then he was pulled out of his darkened reverie by the feel of Darcy’s warm hands on his metal plates. Bucky blinked, trying to clear his head, and she was lifting his hand to her lips. She pressed a kiss to his clenched knuckles.

“Don’t.” She turned his hand over so she could repeat the gentle action to the inside of his wrist, and then she pried his hand open so she could kiss the palm. “Bucky.”

At the sound of his name, he tore his gaze away from their hands and met her cool blue eyes.

“It’s not your fault,” She assured him. And then she flattened out his hand the rest of the way, drawing her fingertips across his palm and down the lines of his long fingers.

“Darcy...”

“No, Bucky, listen. This is not your fault any more than it was your fault that you were tortured and used by those bastards for so long. If you had lost your arm and never gotten a prosthetic, I would still probably experience this same thing.”

“But if they had just let me die, you wouldn’t have had to deal with any of this.”

“If they had let you die, then I wouldn’t have a soulmate. Bucky, you can’t go backward, and I wouldn’t want us to anyways. I love what we have too much for that. I love being with you too much for that.”

Bucky pulled his hand from hers so he could snake his arms around her, and he held onto her tight. He buried his face in her hair and breathed out his next words like a sigh. “I love you.”

Darcy immediately pulled back and stared at him, her eyes full of affection and warmth. And then in the next instant, she was pressing up on her toes and crushing her mouth against his.

Bucky melted into the kiss, swiping his tongue along the seam of her lips, which she parted easily for him, and he brushed it against hers, seeking out the taste of her. He snuck his prosthetic hand up to rest in his favorite spot at the back of her neck, where his sensors could feel the thrum of her pulse kick up in time with their efforts.

The next thing he was aware of was Darcy’s hands pressing against his chest until she located the top of the zipper on his black tac jacket, then she was pulling it down and threading her hands beneath the lapels to push it back and off of his shoulders. Bucky dropped his hands so that he could shake the sleeves off his arms, and the jacket hit the floor. Then he pulled her tank top out from where it had been tucked into her tac pants and tugged it up and over her head.

Once that was gone, he hoisted her up into his arms, and her legs came to wrap around his waist as he carried her toward her bedroom. As soon as they passed through the door, he kicked it shut with one foot and took the three short strides necessary to make it to the edge of her bed. His knees collided with the edge of the mattress, and then they were both tumbling down. Bucky quickly cradled the back of her head in his flesh hand, but they landed on her haphazard pile of pillows and blankets, and they both came up laughing a little around frenzied kisses.

She tugged on the hem of his t-shirt, and he had to sit up on his knees to yank it off and toss it away. Once it was gone, she reached for the button and zipper on his tac pants, and as soon as they were open, she tried to push them down his hips. His mouth quirked up at her eagerness and he took over, shifting the pants off, then covering her body with his own, using one hand to support himself and the other to undo the fastenings on her own tac pants. She used one hand to push him up again so she could shimmy out of both her bra and then her pants and underwear in one go, then she hooked that same hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down on top of her once more. He did so with an enthusiastic growl, and she grinned in anticipation -- at least until he attached his mouth to the base of her neck, and the only thing she could do was whimper in response. The sound shot a strong bolt of desire straight to his groin, and he shifted, rubbing his erection against her hip.

Bucky paused his efforts at her throat and tilted his head up to look her in the eye. Her eyes were hazy with need. He took that moment to draw his metal fingers along her cheek, reveling in the smooth texture of her skin, and he felt her shiver beneath him at the contact. A second later Darcy grabbed his hand and spread his fingers out the way she had earlier, but this time, she pressed a kiss to each one of his fingertips, and Bucky had to suppress a groan at the sensation of her soft lips against the sensitive plates. And once she had given the same attention to each finger, she pushed his hand down her body, directing him to where she needed it.

Darcy shivered again when the cool vibranium met the heated and wet flesh of her cunt, and Bucky knew exactly what she wanted. He stroked upwards, spreading her open and gathering up enough of her wetness to slide over her clit, and in the next moment, while she was still arched and breathless he pressed a finger deep inside her making her cry out.

He would have to spend some time cleaning the plates later, but for the time being, it was entirely worth it. Bucky’s mind was reeling with the information the sensors in his prosthetic were sending him. The heat of her, how slick she felt, the increase in her heart rate, and the way that she was trembling as he stroked inside of her, occasionally circling her clit with the slick metal of his thumb. She was writhing in pleasure as he worked her on his hand, and he pushed a second finger inside her. Darcy tossed her head to the side, and at that moment he pressed his lips to the pulse point behind her ear, and she gasped as her orgasm struck her.

“Bucky!” She gasped.

The feel of her inner muscles fluttering around the sensors in his fingers along with hearing his name on her lips as she came was nearly too much for him, and he had to use all of his concentration to keep from coming right there on her thigh.

He pulled his fingers out of her and leaned in close so he could kiss her as she came down from her orgasm. But as soon as she had, it seemed she was ready for more. She reached down and wrapped her hand around his erection, giving it a few encouraging strokes. Bucky closed his eyes and let out a breath -- she was clearly trying to undo him.

“Bucky...I need…” She panted out. And he didn't let her finish the thought. He knew exactly what she needed, and he was gonna make sure she got it.

He tucked an arm beneath her back and rolled them so that she laid on top of him. Darcy didn't waste any time sitting up and moving so that she could line herself up with his cock, and within moments all the air had been sucked from his lungs as she started to sink down onto him. He glanced down to see his cock disappearing, inch by inch, inside of her. And once she had consumed the length of him, she began rocking her hips.

Bucky let out a desperate and primal noise at the pure pleasure that shot through him with the feeling of her pulling and bucking around his length. She rode him until she was shaking and he could see the sheen of perspiration across her beautiful chest, and he took that moment to let go of her hip with one hand to rub his thumb across her clit a few times. And that was it -- Darcy clamped down around him and trembled as she came hard. Her gorgeous lips parted in a perfect ‘O.’

And before she had even recovered, he flipped them over once more, staying seated deep inside her, to seek out his pleasure as well. It didn't take long for his thrusts to become more sporadic as he neared the end, but it was the feel of Darcy’s nails digging into his shoulders that sent him over the edge. White spots danced in front of Bucky’s eyes as he came, filling her with his spend until he collapsed on top of her.

As soon as he could think clearly he remembered himself and rolled off of her, pulling her with him so she could tuck herself into his side. Almost immediately her hand came up so she could trace along his chest, as she liked to do.

“I love you, James Buchanan Barnes.” She said with a confidence that warmed his heart so much he thought it might burst. Bucky tightened his grip around her and blinked hard to chase away the tears that had suddenly glazed his eyes.

She loved him.

And he would stop at nothing to destroy the bastards who had made him believe that such a thing was impossible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so that GIF might not _actually_ be Kat Dennings and Sebastian Stan, but I searched for like an hour for a GIF that would be chapter appropriate AND look enough like them to be believable. Hopefully, you can use a little imagination ;)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys. I super apologise for the delay in getting this chapter up. I have had most of this story written out several chapters before what I posted, and now it’s finally caught up with me. Also, I had written most of Chapter 10, then had about a straight week where I questioned everything about it, and heavily considered scrapping and rewriting the whole chapter like 5 times, before I finally decided to go with my gut and (mostly) keep it (-- there may have been _a little_ rewriting). 
> 
> But I'm pretty sure I'm back on track. I know what needs to happen in the next couple of chapters, and I know how to get there, which was part of the problem with Chapter 10 -- I knew what Point A was, and I knew what Point B was, I was just struggling with how to get these lovely characters _from_ Point A to Point B.
> 
> Anyhoo...enjoy, all you amazingly wonderful humans, you <3

Darcy knew it was probably inevitable -- them training with the same small group of people, and sharing the same training spaces all the time -- but she still had butterflies running wild in her gut the first time Bucky saw her in weapons training. She knew it was stupid. He was a world-class assassin, trained to be a flawless killing machine, and she had never held more than a taser until several months prior. Not only was there no contest in skill, but she also knew that Bucky wouldn't judge her for her substandard skill set.

But she still felt a strange need to prove her competence.

And so the butterflies remained. 

Until then she had been mostly working under Agent May’s tutelage, who had taken her on, in addition to Skye. Coulson was mostly interested in keeping many things about SHIELD the same -- minus the internal corruption, of course. But that meant that all low-level field agents were required to train under and report to a Superior Officer, or “S.O.” So May was mentoring them both.

That morning, May had Darcy and Skye both running through their paces. They were already sweaty and tired by the time she had them finishing up their workout with some knife work on the mats. Bucky and a few of the others had come into the gym, and were clearly about to start their own workout, but they had paused to watch the ladies’ progress. Darcy was actively trying to ignore them so she could focus.

“Good form, Lewis, but your speed needs some work,” May commented as she observed the two of them working together. “Come here and show me that turn again.”

Darcy straightened up from where she was partially entangled with Skye and stepped over to Agent May. She readjusted her grip on the handle of her black rubber training knife, set up the same way she had before, and ran through the sequence again until May stopped her. 

“Look, you lose the speed in the turn and they’ve got you,” May emphasized this point by pressing her own training knife against Darcy’s side. “Do it again.”

Darcy shook off the nerves of knowing she was still being watched and set up to go again. This time, she tried to focus on maintaining the same quickness she began with, but when she went to execute the turn she felt her weight shift and she couldn’t correct her balance in time. She ended up falling hard on her hip.

She huffed in growing frustration and shook her head to clear it, before jumping up to set up again. But once again, she ended up falling, just as hard, out of the turn.

“Keep working on it,” May said flatly, though with no sense of admonishment -- which the small part of Darcy’s mind that wasn’t reeling with frustrated embarrassment, appreciated. Agent May stood up straight and gestured to Skye with the tip of the knife, “And _you_ need to keep working on that sloppy right arm. But, overall, nice work. We’re done for today, ladies.”

Agent May dropped the knife at the edge of the mats and left the gym. Skye made a frustrated face and repeated the swinging motion with her right arms a few quick times before heading off the mats and over to the side of the room. Darcy picked herself up off the ground and wiped the perspiration from her forehead with the back of her arm. She made her way over to the side of the mats where she had left her water bottle and set down her own knife to take a drink. She saw Bucky approaching out of the corner of her eye and she tried to remind herself that he wouldn’t judge her, that she was still learning, and he knew that.

“Nice work, doll.” He grinned.

Darcy made a noncommittal noise in response, and continued to rehydrate.

Bucky’s face tightened slightly, “What’s wrong?”

She finished drinking her water and flipped the lid back down. Darcy took a deep breath and blew it out again, “I’m not fast enough when I turn, but when I try to get more speed, I fall on my ass.”

Bucky’s eyebrow ticked up at that. “I think I can help.”

“Oh yeah? How?” Darcy challenged him.

“Show me the turn.” He said, stepping onto the mats. 

Darcy sighed, set her water down, and crossed over to him. He really did know just about everything possible about fighting techniques and she realized she might as well see what she could learn from him. So she picked the training knife back up and set up for the maneuver again.

She started the move, and, just like before, she fell out of the turn. But before she could hit the ground, Bucky caught her hand and pulled her back up. “See, when you spin around, you’re not focusing on the target.”

“May keeps reminding us to always keep an eye on our surroundings,” Darcy explained. 

Bucky nodded. “That’s good to do. But it’s actually a detriment when you’re that close and trying to rotate. You’ll be faster if you pull that knife arm in a bit when you spin, and spot the target when you go around. Know exactly where you’re going to strike, so the second you’re back around you’ve got your eye on the target.”

“Okay.” Darcy took a breath then set up for the turn again. This time, she did it and managed to stay upright. Her knife didn’t quite hit her intended mark beneath his ribs, but it was certainly cleaner than before.

“Definitely better.” Bucky praised her.

“Thanks.” She brushed a few stray pieces of hair out of her face, “Let’s try it again, though. I think I can do it better.”

“Okay,” He smiled at her determination. 

They tried the move again, and this time, she managed to both stay upright as well as striking him exactly where she meant to.

“See, there you go. You’re gettin’ it, doll.” He said, pulling her back up again, so they were chest to chest. His hands went to her waist as hers rested on his biceps.

“So, you gonna teach me all your secrets, Sergeant?”

He smirked, and tilted his head down towards hers, “Maybe not all of them...”

“Oh, yeah?” She asked, rising up on her toes.

“Come on, Barnes! Are we gonna finish working out or what?” Sam interrupted their moment, and Darcy dropped her head forward against his chest.

Steve cut in then, too. “Heya, Darcy.” Though, he sounded slightly more apologetic for interrupting, “Do mind if we steal him back, now?”

Darcy lifted her head and rolled her eyes. “He’s all yours, boys.” She answered, extricating herself from Bucky’s embrace, and he seemed reluctant to let her go. “I’ve gotta go check in with Jane. I haven’t seen her around our place in a day or two.”

Jane had assistants to help keep her on track, sure, but Darcy never fully trusted them to care for Jane the way she could. She knew that Jane wouldn’t be in any major trouble nutritionally or hygienically, but old habits died hard. She picked up her water bottle and made her way to the door.

“Dinner tonight?” Bucky asked, causing Darcy to glance back at him. 

“Maybe, if you’re lucky, Sarge.” She quipped, throwing him a wink for the hell of it.

He returned the wink, paired with a cheeky grin, “I usually am, doll.”

Darcy headed up to her apartment first, to take a quick shower, and to change into clean clothes, but then took the elevator down to the lab that Jane now shared with Agent Fitz and Agent Simmons.

“How’s my favorite genius?” Darcy asked, pushing through the clear glass door of the lab.

Tony was lounging in a rolling chair off to her right, with his feet propped up on a desk. In his hands, he held a thin StarkPad, which was projecting a holographic blueprint in front of him. “I’ve been told I’m delightful.”

Darcy narrowed her eyes at him, “I wasn’t talking to you, Tony.”

“Well, now I’m just offended.”

“Don’t you have your own workshop?”

“Technically yes, but it gets so lonely in there sometimes.”

Leo Fitz jumped in then, “Meaning, he likes to come...” The Scottish scientist paused, his eyes closed, and he pressed his fingertips against his temple as he struggled to find the right word.

“Bother,” Tony supplied. “I like to come bother you, lovely folks.”

Fitz nodded, confirming that that had, in fact, been the word he was searching for. He was still dealing with the lingering effects of Hydra’s attack on SHIELD. He and Simmons had been trapped in a pod that was shoved out of a helicarrier and into the ocean by a former member of Coulson’s team who turned out to be Hydra. Fitz had saved Simmons’ life but was still struggling with the after-effects of extreme oxygen deprivation.

“I’ve actually been told I’m quite delightful, as well.” Jemma Simmons said, her graceful accent drawing attention to where she was surrounded by holoscreens covered in what appeared to be mostly hand drawn designs and algorithms. 

Darcy grinned at the slight, brown-haired woman, “Now from _you_ I believe that. Hey, Simmons.”

“Hello, Darcy.” Simmons returned her smile.

“Hey, Fitz.” She nodded towards the other man, “Good to see you, guys. But maybe I should clarify, how’s my favorite Jane?”

“I think she’s asleep,” Fitz answered her.

“Really? Even with Tony’s racket?”

“Hey! I’m even more offended now.”

Simmons ignored Tony’s objection and pointed towards the far corner of the room, “She disappeared under that table a couple of hours ago. We haven’t heard a peep from her since.”

“She does that sometimes,” Fitz added.

“Oh, I know.” Darcy agreed with amusement. “She did that under a parked car once when we were in New Mexico. _My_ parked car actually. I almost ran over her on my way to get coffee.”

Darcy crossed the room and ducked her head to get a good look under the lab table. Sure enough, there was Jane, bundled up in a baggy Culver sweatshirt, though she wasn’t asleep. The little woman had her laptop open on her propped up knees, with a StarkPad sitting beside her on one side, and a paper notebook lying open with dog-eared pages of chicken scratch on the other side. She was typing furiously and had earbuds in her ears that Darcy assumed were blasting music loud enough to tune the rest of the world out. 

“Janey?” Darcy said somewhat loudly but to no avail. She tried again, this time waving her hand in front of the scientist’s line of vision. “Hey, Jane.”

Jane immediately pulled an earbud out of her ear and sat up, nearly smacking her head on the bottom of the table. She was only saved from doing so, by Darcy sticking her hand in the way in time so Jane’s head bounced rather harmlessly off her palm instead. She blinked a few times, as if getting her eyes to focus on something other than her computer screen, then took in her friend who had, apparently, magically appeared beside her. “Hey, Darce. What’s up? Do you need me?”

“Not really, genius-lady,” Darcy replied dryly, tucking her legs under her to settle beside Jane on the floor. “Just came by to check in on you. You’ve been pretty much stuck in here for a while.” Darcy looked her over and noticed she seemed relatively well-groomed for Jane’s usual standards. “Your assistants have you eating and showering, right? You don’t smell too bad.”

“Yep.” Jane answered genuinely, “And thanks. I took a shower yesterday... I think.” She glanced upwards, clearly trying to think back through the haze of science.

Darcy made an appeased face and shrugged, “Good enough. How’s the new project?”

Jane’s eyes instantly lit up and she flew into a description. “Oh my gosh. It’s so fascinating! So Jemma and Leo developed this program that can scan a person or object and create a sort of biometric fingerprint for them, then store that information so we can identify anyone or anything by using that fingerprint. In theory, this tech will help us identify people in hostage situations, or help us avoid pursuing the wrong target. It’s got some kinks still -- it doesn’t scan through certain compounds, and it doesn’t seem to work well with non-mammals for some reason. Obviously, it’s still in the development stages, but I’m working on developing a portable unit for the technology.”

“Sounds interesting.” Darcy raised her eyebrows. The technology did sound pretty impressive and definitely useful.

“Well it’s not astrophysics,” Jane admitted, closing the lid of her laptop in a sign that she was starting to emerge from her work trance. “But I am getting to do a fair bit of engineering.”

“Ah. Taking the lesser appreciated degrees out for a stroll, are we?”

“You know, this stuff is so much easier when I don’t have to adapt my machines out of old toasters and Keurig components. I like having funding.”

“Me too, genius-lady. Hey, you seen your boo today?”

“Yeah, he brought me breakfast,” Jane said, smiling. 

Darcy tilted her head, “Awe. That’s so sweet of him. What’d he bring you?”

“Spaghetti.”

Darcy squinted at her friend. “Jane. That’s what Clint made for dinner last night.”

“Really?”

“Are you sure it wasn’t dinner last night?” Darcy asked.

Jane nodded slowly, “Maybe he brought me dinner last night.” 

“Uh huh. I think maybe you’re right.”

“Wait. So what’s today?” Jane wondered out loud.

“Tuesday.”

“Tuesday!? I thought it was Sunday! Jemma!”

“Yes, Jane?” Simmons called from across the lab.

“Is it really Tuesday?”

“Yes. Why?” The curiosity was evident in her voice.

“I thought it was Sunday!”

“Sunday was two days ago, Foster.” Tony interrupted.

“I got that now. Thanks, Tony. You’re such a help.”

“That is what I’m known for, yes.” He quipped.

“Ugh. Wow. Okay,” Jane shook her head as if she was resetting everything in her mind, “So it’s Tuesday. What time is it?”

“About eleven thirty,” Darcy answered.

“At night?”

She shook her head, “In the morning.”

“Wow. I am _way_ off.”

“You need some human contact.” Darcy asserted eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, probably.”

Darcy inclined her head in the general direction of the door, “Come on. Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

“To get some coffee.”

“But there’s a coffee machine in here.” Jane reasoned weakly.

But Darcy wasn’t caving. She crossed her arms and challenged Jane, “When did you last see sunlight?”

“Um...”

“Exactly. Let’s go.”

They ended up at the Starbucks just around the corner, where they got their coffees and sat at a little table in the back corner of the shop.

“So what have you been doing? I know about the trip out of town.” Jane asked. Since the fall of SHIELD, they often had to speak in slightly veiled terms in public -- mostly just avoiding explicit terms like _“Avengers,” “mission,” “SHIELD,”_ or _“God of Thunder.”_ It was hard to know sometimes who could possibly be listening, and by adjusting their speech just slightly, they kept themselves from arousing any potential attention.

“It went really well, actually. Got everything set up there, and got back smoothly.” Darcy answered carefully, then took a sip of her coffee.

“No delays at the airport?” Sometimes Jane took the code thing a little too far.

Darcy swallowed her drink and gave an amused chuckle. “No. The flight was smooth.”

“Good.” 

Jane took a sip of her own coffee and they both grew quiet for a long moment. Dary traced the lip of the plastic lid on her cup, drawing a stray drop of coffee around the edge.

“We’ve both been a little caught up with work, you and me,” Darcy stated, breaking the short silence.

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, but I’m sorry too.” She apologized, shrugging a shoulder. “I’m used to you doing that -- going off on your science benders and hibernating for days. I guess I just sometimes miss being able to be the one looking out for you when you did that.”

“You’ve got your own job now, Darce. It’s good. You like what you’re doing right?”

“Yeah. It’s...It’s pretty great actually.” Darcy stared down at the table, “I feel like I’m making a difference.”

“It’s a good feeling.” Jane agreed. “How’s Bucky?”

Darcy looked up again, “He’s good. We’re good. I think he’s finally feeling settled.” She explained, “And I think he feels the same way I do, you know? About feeling like he’s making a difference? He feels like he’s got so much to make up for.”

“I bet. I’m glad he has you.” Jane gave her a genuine smile and reached across the table to squeeze her hand, “You’re pretty good at helping people cope with stuff.”

“Yeah, well his problems were nothing like yours. I mean, girl please, your boyfriend just up and abandoned you for two years. He’s got nothing on you.”

“Right?” Jane tossed her head back melodramatically, “My problems were so much worse.”

“Omg. Totally.” Darcy giggled into her coffee.

Jane changed the subject then, “Thor’s thinking he’ll have to go home soon again, though.”

“Really?” Darcy set her cup down and frowned. “That sucks.”

“Well, he’s actually trying to convince me to go with him this time.”

“Okay. Not so sucky.”

Jane sighed and pulled her hands into her lap, “He wants the people to start seeing me around. Which I’m sure makes sense, but I’m just hesitant, you know?” She stared down at her hands, “Last time I was there his mom died, and it was basically my fault. Plus his dad still pretty much hates me.”

“You know Thor doesn’t hold any of that against you.” Darcy tilted her head, trying to catch Jane’s eye. “He knows his mom was protecting you. And as for Odin --” She made a dismissive noise from the back of her throat. “Don’t pay attention to that asshole.”

Jane finally looked up and regarded Darcy skeptically. “That’s a little easier said than done. The man’s kind of in charge.”

“You know Thor won’t let him get away with being an ass to you. And it’s not like you won’t give him a piece of your mind if it comes to it.”

“Yeah, I just feel like I have to step carefully. Ugh. I hate politics.” Jane propped her elbows on the table top and dropped her head into her hands.

“Well, good thing you’re dating a super important future political leader.”

Jane lifted her head enough to glare back. “Shut up.”

“Who me?” Darcy asked innocently.

“So,” Jane seemed to find a way to change the subject once more. “Have you and the Sergeant talked about plans for your birthday?”

“Oh yeah.” She replied slowly. Darcy hadn’t given her impending birthday a whole lot of thought. “That’s coming up, isn’t it.”

Jane’s eyebrow ticked up. “Darcy Lewis forgetting about a perfectly good excuse for cake and booze? I’m shocked.”

“Well,” She defended, “I’ve been a little busy lately. So no, we haven’t discussed it yet. But I’m not expecting anything big, really, with everything being so crazy right now.”

Jane nodded and lifted her coffee to take a sip, “Makes sense.”

*

Bucky had enjoyed seeing Darcy in action earlier that morning. She was still clearly learning, and he could sense her frustration when she couldn’t get that one maneuver quite right. But he’d be damned if he didn’t enjoy getting to tutor her a bit. He genuinely hoped she would accept his offer to teach her more of his tricks.

Steve and Sam had teased him after she left. Steve calling him a slack-happy fool, and Sam calling him whipped. But he didn’t let it bother him. He was happy to be using all his training in ways he could be proud of, and to be able to help his girl in the process was just an extra perk.

His friends had kept up a decent conversation while running through their workout. They were focusing on weight training, and Bucky was always concerned with keeping his right arm in balance with his left. The cybernetic arm could generate dozens of pounds more pressure and way more speed than his flesh arm, but it always felt strange if he let the musculature of his human arm change too much in comparison to the other.

Bucky finished his final set of bench presses, and Steve, who was spotting him, helped him place the bar back on the rack. The plates in his left arm ran through a recalibration. Meanwhile, he felt the burn of fatigued muscle in his pecs as he shifted to sit up, but knew the feeling would disappear within minutes thanks to the serum.

Their conversation had circled back around to his relationship, and specifically to the plans for Darcy’s approaching birthday.

“Dude, you have to do something big. It’s your first major relationship event.” Sam said, wiping his face and neck down with a towel.

“Yeah, Buck.” Steve agreed. “You’ve gotta do something, for sure. Darcy loves a good excuse for cake and drinking with her friends.”

Bucky leaned forward on the bench, resting elbows on knees and glancing between the other two, “So what do you think I should do? Flowers and gifts aside. Would she like a surprise party?”

Sam immediately supported that suggestion. “I think she would _definitely_ enjoy a surprise party. Hell, _I_ would enjoy a surprise party.”

“Your birthday’s not for six months.” Steve reminded him.

“All the more reason for me to indulge in someone else’s celebration.”

Steve chuckled and turned back to Bucky. “You know, you should think about talking to Thor, too. She’s practically his little sister, and those two have thrown some pretty great parties of their own.”

Sam nodded seriously. “I heard about the Saint Patrick’s Day party earlier this year.” 

“I’ve never seen so many forms of alcohol dyed green.” Said Steve, his eyes going a little wide at the memories.

“Really?” Bucky asked, standing and grabbing his own towel to wipe down with. There were a lot of things he loved about the twenty-first century, but he wasn’t sure he could get behind the idea of dying hooch.

“I heard that some guy was hitting on Darcy and acting like a mansplaining jerk to Jane, so Thor knocked him out and set his hammer on the guy’s chest so he couldn’t get up again once he woke up.”

“You’re joking.” Bucky raised his eyebrows incredulously, but Steve was quick to confirm it as fact.

“No, that really happened. That’s one of his favorite party tricks.”

Bucky let a thoughtful breath out through his nose before asking, “So surprise party, huh?”

“Not a bad direction to go, my friend,” Sam assured him.

“Alright. I’ll take your word for it. And I’ll talk to Thor, too. But for now, gents, I’ve got some dinner plans to make.” Bucky smiled and turned to head for the door.

“Look how he does that. Brushes us off so smoothly.” Sam said, impressed.

“I’m afraid we’ve been replaced.” Steve shrugged, mock resignation all over his expression.

Bucky turned back around and walked backward for a few steps, “Come on, fellas. I can’t leave my best girl waiting.”

“Ugh. My heart. I can’t.” Sam was clutching his chest and leaning on Steve, who was having a hard time not cracking up at his dramatics.

Bucky just laughed and pushed through the door with his shoulders, then let it swing shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, you delightful human beings, you!  
> First of all, I have to give continued thanks to [ HKThauer](http://archiveofourown.org/users/HKThauer/pseuds/HKThauer), who is the most amazing cheerleader a girl could ever ask for <3  
> A ginormous high-fivey, attack-hugging thank you to [ uconnhuskiesfan_wintershockship](http://archiveofourown.org/users/uconnhuskiesfan_wintershockship/pseuds/uconnhuskiesfan_wintershockship) for beta-ing this chapter for me! And you can thank her for helping me with the GIF selection at the end too;)
> 
> Also, you guys. Omg. [abbyli](http://archiveofourown.org/users/abbyli/pseuds/abbyli) is amazing and wonderful and made [this beautiful cover](http://darcylewisy.tumblr.com/post/149962138470/all-he-ever-remembered-was-the-cold-and-the-pain) for this story! No one’s ever made me a cover before. I’m so pumped about this :D

Bucky lay in bed staring at the ceiling, the same way he had been for the last hour. Beside him, he heard Darcy make a sleepy groan and he glanced down at her to make sure she was okay. But she simply shifted in her sleep, rolling toward him and tangling her foot with his, then fell still again and continued her light snoring that assured him she was fine.

He thought back to dinner that night. He had written her a note on his arm to let her know when he would swing by to pick her up, and when she opened the door his heart flew up into his throat.

She had curled her hair and twisted the front of it up into victory rolls, which floored him. Her dress was modern, but when she started down the hallway toward the elevators (he was still stuck gaping after her like a fish) he saw that her stockings had seams up the back. She looked back at him over her shoulder and her crimson painted lips turned up into a smirk.

“You comin,’ Sarge? Or do I gotta take myself out?”

Bucky had caught up with himself then and chased after her. And later, after they’d had a pretty great dinner and he’d brought her back to his and Steve’s place, she kept up the bit. Gratuitously using every forties slang term she knew, until she called him a “fuddy-duddy” and he found a way to put her vocal chords to different use, screaming his name instead.

They had both fallen asleep, wrapped around each other. Then Bucky was startled awake by a nightmare.

It hadn’t been like any of his other nightmares. Not the flashes of terrifying memories from Hydra, pain rocketing through his every limb, and the faces of his victims passing in front of him like some morbid parade. Instead, it had been of his future. Darcy holding his hand, walking along with him until he glanced down at her and saw a single rivulet of blood trailing from the corner of her mouth. He blinked, and suddenly the blood was everywhere, soaking into her clothing, staining her skin. He put his hands on her shoulders, her arms, her belly, trying to stop it -- to save her -- but he just couldn’t find the source of all the blood. It didn’t make sense. Her eyes rolled back and she fell into his arms, but he couldn’t wake her up, no matter how much he shook her or screamed her name.

Bucky had awoken with a gasp. His immediate panic was calmed by his prosthetic arm transmitting the beat of Darcy’s pulse and the temperature of her skin to his brain, and slowly he was able to catch his breath. But he hadn’t been able to get back to sleep.

Finally, his anxiety boiled over and he decided he couldn’t just lay there anymore. He gently eased his arm out from under Darcy’s waist and crawled out of bed. Bucky made his way out into the living room, shutting the bedroom door quietly, and then settled onto the couch. He picked up the TV remote and scrolled through the options until he reached his Netflix account and selected the nature show called _Blue Planet_ from his recently watched options. Darcy had made sure both he and Steve had the television accounts set up, so they could have access to watch all of her suggestions and so they could find their own favorites. Bucky had discovered the nature show -- all about ocean life and sea creatures -- and it had become one of his favorite things to watch when he couldn’t sleep. The narrator’s smooth British dialect was low and relaxing to listen to, and the images were both beautiful and hypnotic.

He kept the volume low enough that he knew it wouldn’t wake Darcy, but he also knew that short of putting the show on mute, he would still risk waking Steve. And several minutes later he was proven right when Steve’s door clicked open and the blonde padded into the living room in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt to sit down beside Bucky on the couch.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Bucky stared down at the carpet, “Nah.”

“Nightmare?” Steve asked and Bucky nodded. “Wanna talk about it?”

Bucky took a deep breath to fortify his nerves. “This one was different, Steve.” He glanced up at his best friend who was looking at him with a calm expression of concern, “I...I just don’t know if I’ll ever be...better.”

Steve’s shoulder ticked up in a shrug, “You’re doing so much better already, Buck. You haven’t had a slip in weeks.”

His words were meant to be reassuring, but they just echoed the real reason Bucky was so afraid. “I know. But the longer I go without one, the more the prospect of one scares me. What if I let my guard down and I end up hurting someone.” He felt like everything behind his sternum was clenching up with genuine fear and his next words came out in nearly a whisper, “What if I end up hurting Darcy?”

Steve took a breath and let it out slowly before answering, in the meantime letting Bucky’s question settle around them both like a fog. “I’m not gonna lie to you and say that won’t happen. We both know it’s a real concern. But you’ve got all of us rallying around you, Buck.” Steve placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’ve got a team and a family here, and we’re never gonna stop fighting for you, or with you. And Darcy’s a strong lady. Hey, keep teaching her your moves like you did the other day, and she’ll be able to take you if it ever really comes to it.” Bucky let out a short burst of air through his nose at the picture of her taking his sorry ass down. Steve continued, “Just don’t go into it thinking that you’re preparing her against you. That’s not a healthy mindset.”

Bucky smirked at Steve’s phrasing, “You sound like Sam.”

Steve matched his smirk at first but then looked at him seriously. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, punk.” Steve smiled, jabbing him lightly in the ribs with his elbow.

Bucky elbowed him back, “Jerk.”

The two of them settled back into the couch cushions and listened to the narrator on the TV serenely explain the migration patterns of humpback whales.

Bucky didn’t recall falling asleep, but when he finally floated back into consciousness the next morning, he was stretched out the couch beneath a throw blanket. It was obviously still early from the angle of the sun trickling in through the window, but Steve was nowhere to be seen.

 

*  
Darcy pushed open the door to Coulson’s office with her shoulder, trying to juggle the travel tray of coffees in one hand and balancing her laptop and a tablet in the other. Coulson had called Darcy and Skye in for a meeting to check on the progress of their trojan horse program.

They had been on two more successful missions in as many weeks to install the program in other Hydra servers (Bucky hadn’t been entirely amused when he went to put his gear on in preparation for said missions and found that Darcy had stuck a ball point pen in each of his eight different weapons holsters). As it was, the program worked to map out Hydra’s network as it was used, tracking emails and communications to different parts of the globe where Hydra had their strongholds, which meant that the more servers that hosted the program, the faster they could create that map and get a picture of what they were dealing with.

“Caffeine has arrived. Grande Americano, cream and sugar for you.” She handed Skye one of the white paper cups, “And a pumpkin spice latte for the boss man.”

Skye shot Coulson a look and he shrugged, “I like fall.”

“Hey, no shame, Son of Coul.” Darcy supported him. She flashed him the side of her cup which was also marked with the letters “PSL,” and he indulged her in a high five.

“How’s our baby looking?” Skye changed the subject.

Coulson took a sip of his coffee before answering. “The program is working flawlessly. We haven’t gotten too much in terms of classified data that we weren’t already aware of from both Simmons’ and Morse’s time undercover, but we are starting to get a skeleton of their whole network.” He tapped on the screen of a tablet that had been sitting on his desk and brought up an image of a map. Across the map, there were red dots indicating Hydra presence.

“Anything interesting?” Darcy asked.

“There’s a fair bit more activity in Latvia than I initially expected.”

Skye rolled her eyes at his blasé evasion then pinned him with a look, “Coulson.”

He shrugged, “Frankly, it’s about what I expected. Their numbers are larger than we’d like, but not impossible to combat, and unfortunately, they’re spread quite widely across the globe, but we expected that too.”

“So where do we go from here?” Darcy inquired, waking up her own tablet to take down some notes on the situation.

“We keep an eye out for keywords and sensitive information. Regrettably, we can’t block every attack, or intercept every deal.”

Skye nodded in understanding. “We can’t let them know we know their business.”

“Right.” Coulson confirmed, “So we stop the big ones where we can. Figure out where to plant our own people undercover, and do just enough to keep them from getting ahead.”

“But we can’t just shut them down completely,” Darcy asked, scribbling down things to keep an eye on in the program.

“Unfortunately not.”

Skye sighed loudly. “That is so frustrating.”

“Tell me about it,” Coulson agreed, taking a long drink of his coffee.

 

*

The morning of her birthday, Bucky had awoken Darcy with his hands trailing over her skin, lighting her up and putting her on edge, so that by the time he ducked his head beneath the sheets and started working his mouth and tongue on her cunt, she was already coming apart. Several highly enthusiastic rounds later, she finally had to head downstairs for some firearms training with Agent May, and Bucky got up to finish some last minute things for her birthday celebration.

He was actually quite grateful for the suggestion that he consult Thor on the plans for Darcy’s birthday. Once Tony had caught wind of Bucky’s plans, he had offered to pay for everything and even offered to hire a professional party planner. But Bucky had turned down the second part of the offer. Not only did he simply want the satisfaction of doing it himself, but Thor was quite the party planner, and he certainly had plenty of enthusiasm for helping Bucky figure out the best way to handle the event. Jane was in on it and had helped Bucky track down Darcy’s favorite bakery, which sold a dark chocolate cherry cupcake that she just couldn’t get enough of. Jane had even told him that Darcy had always wanted “one of those cakes with her picture printed on it” as a child, and had never gotten one. It took Bucky a minute to process the knowledge that people could print edible photographs on cakes now, then he was determined to make that dream happen for her. As a result, they had ordered several dozen of Darcy’s favorite cupcakes, as well as one large sheet cake with a goofy photo of her printed right across the top.

He was on his way back from the bakery in question, after having dropped off the photo they would use for the cake and confirming the delivery time. Bucky was finding a strange sense of satisfaction in the simple act of going out and getting all the errands for her party accomplished by himself. Something he knew others took for granted every day. The plan was for him to pick Darcy up at her apartment with flowers, and take her to an early dinner at an amazing restaurant where Tony had standing reservations (which he was generously donating to their cause). Then he was going to bring her back to the tower where they would head back up to her place, but they would stop by the common floor on the way, where -- surprise! -- her party would just be getting into full swing.

He might have been a little distracted by those thoughts because suddenly he ran into someone on the sidewalk. Or they ran into him -- he wasn’t sure at first -- but in the next moment, he felt a pinprick of pain in his right bicep. Instantly he was on high alert, and he realized he might have been drugged.

He put his glove-covered left hand to his right arm, where he’d felt the pain, but didn’t feel anything amiss. It was just like they had jabbed him with a needle and taken off. Bucky quickly scanned the immediate area around him and noticed someone ducking into an alleyway, some ten feet ahead of him.

He took off after the mystery person, his eyes taking in everything else around him as he quickly ducked into the same alley. But as he rounded the corner, his vision blurred, just for a second, and he blinked several times to clear it.

Shit.

His theory about being drugged suddenly had significantly more weight. But he steeled himself and moved on from that thought when saw the strange person further down the alley, still walking swiftly away. They were wearing jeans and a black hooded jacket -- entirely unassuming and forgettable clothing that could blend into any crowd.

He stalked toward the man, pausing only to pull out the knife he kept on his belt, just in case. He also had another knife strapped to his left calf and one in his right boot as back up. Some people might consider that many knives to be a little excessive for simply running errands, but Bucky’s current circumstances seemed to justify them perfectly.

When he had gotten about twenty feet from the mouth of the alley, Bucky realized his mistake. He had been so focused on the mystery person, that he hadn’t thought to check for immediate escape routes. If there had been any fire escape landings or ladders above, they would have been viable options, but he noted that the alley was completely devoid of them overhead. And he also noticed that the far end of the alley was blocked off by a black van, which didn’t bode well for him at all. The whole thing smelled suspiciously like a trap.

Bucky switched his knife to his left hand and reached into his back pocket with the other. He slipped his wallet out and quietly dropped it on the ground, kicking it to the side of the alley where it stopped half beneath a dumpster.

The man finally stopped and turned around. Bucky definitely didn’t recognize him, but then the man spoke.

“Наконец, Солдат выходит из укрытия.”

Fuck.

“Я не твой солдат.” Bucky replied, spitting out the words. This was Hydra’s doing. He wasn’t going to let them take him from everything he’d built and regained. He wasn’t going to let them take him back.

The man’s eyebrow raised in amusement, and he clasped his hands in front of him before responding calmly, “Вы всегда будете солдат . Соответствуют и иди с нами прямо сейчас .” His tone was laced with a carefully measured confidence like he was so sure he would comply. It made Bucky’s blood boil.

“Никогда.” Bucky snapped.

The Hydra agent glanced to the ground and pressed his fingers to his ear, activating a comm. In English, he said, “Requesting backup. The Asset is resisting.”

Bucky saw the side door of the black van, at the end of the alley, slide open, and three other men emerged, all dressed in black Hydra tac gear. But he wasn’t about to let them have the advantage of reaching him and striking first. He lunged forward towards the lone agent, and as he did he felt a wave of dizziness crash over him and his vision blurred again. His knife missed the mark by an inch. He shook his head to clear it and spun around, this time, he made contact, but only managed to glance the blade off the man’s arm, slicing through the black cotton.

The man winced at the shallow injury but was able to block his next strike. Bucky saw the other three agents running down the alley towards them, and knew he had to move fast to have any advantage. He managed to grab the man’s other arm with his metal hand and he twisted around quickly, bending the man’s arm at an unnatural angle. The agent let out a pained scream as the bone gave way, and Bucky threw him to the side, where he slammed into the brick wall and slumped to the ground. The quick movement made Bucky’s head swim and he staggered to remain upright against the drugs. His reflexes were starting to feel too sluggish and his limbs felt heavy like they were filled with sand. He knew he wouldn’t likely be able to take on all three of the other Hydra agents who were practically on top of him now, and he definitely wouldn’t be able to run fast enough to get back to the street without keeling over from the drugs in his system. They must have hit him with something akin to a horse tranquilizer to be affecting him this much, this quickly.

Bucky knew his odds weren’t good, even as the first officer got close enough to attack. But he’d be goddamned if he wasn’t going down without a fight. He struck out with the knife, and the Hydra agent blocked the shot. Bucky felt another agent behind him, and he struck out with his foot, knocking them in the leg hard enough that he heard a crack and a yelp of pain.

Good. One at least partially down.

He was still holding off the first agent, and struggling hard to stay on his feet, when the third came upon him. He swiped his left arm out, but with the movement, he felt his whole body lurch to the side, and his vision doubled and swam. In the next moment, he felt a fist connect with his jaw, and his legs collapsed from underneath him. The blue sky between the buildings mocking him with its cloudless bright color, he heard one of the agents call into his comm.

“We’ve got him. The Asset is down. Hail Hydra.”

Bucky tried to pull his head up, to roll over and get up, but whatever they'd drugged him with must have included a serious paralytic -- his limbs wouldn’t move no matter how he tried. Slowly the bright blue sky above him faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness, today has been a bit of a nightmare (my morning started out with me accidentally dropping my tube of toothpaste in the toilet and sneezing immediately after applying mascara when I was already running late, and ended with me FINALLY and miraculously getting my boyfriend's phone back after he left it in a taxi). I'm so glad to be posting this chapter right now because it always gives me a boost to feel the love from all your wonderful kudos and comments!
> 
> Crazy huge thank yous to uconnhuskiesfan_wintershockship for beta-ing this chapter! She's a gem <3<3<3

Darcy paced around her living room for what felt like the hundredth time. Bucky was supposed to pick her up for dinner almost an hour ago. She tried calling him again, but like the last seven times she’d tried, it went straight to voicemail. She let out an exasperated grunt and tossed her phone onto the couch only for it to ring a second later.

She scrambled to pick it up but made a face when she saw that it was Jane calling, not Bucky. She hit the button to answer anyways.

“Hey, Jane.”

_“Hey Darce. You’re not with Bucky right now, are you?”_

“No, I’m not. And I’m gonna kill him. He was supposed to pick me up for dinner an hour ago, and his phone is off or dead or something.”

_“Ah. I see. Um...”_

“Jane, what is it? Wait, why do you need Bucky?”

 _“Um...no reason,”_ Jane said unconvincingly. Then in the background she heard Tony’s voice saying something unintelligible, before Jane snapped at him, “Tony stop it, I’m trying to figure it out.”

“What the hell is happening?” Darcy asked. Jane was acting weird, and not just her usual _Science! has taken over my mind_ weird.

 _“Nothing!”_ Jane insisted, a little too quickly. _“There’s nothing going on. Why would you think that?”_

Darcy heard more voices in the background and something that sounded like Tony’s voice yelling “cocktail napkins.”

“Wait.” Darcy started putting everything together, “Are you guys throwing me a surprise party?”

 _“No!”_ Jane practically shrieked.

Darcy made a face, not that her friend could see it. “Jane,” She deadpanned.

_“Well...”_

“Jane.”

There was a whooshing sound over the line as Jane sighed, _“Ugh. I’m sorry. It really was supposed to be a surprise.”_ Then, slightly muffled, like she was holding her hand over the speaker, _“Tony, get off my back! She guessed, okay?”_

“Janey, over here.” Darcy piped up to refocus Jane’s attention.

_“What? Oh, sorry.”_

“So you guys are throwing me a surprise party.”

_“Well, we were. But no one can get in touch with Bucky, and we’re starting to get worried.”_

“So he hasn’t talked to you either? Shit. Where is he?”

_“You guys were supposed to go to dinner, then come back here for the party. But everyone’s supposed to be here in like twenty minutes, and the cake delivery guys just showed up, and no one’s heard from Bucky.”_

“Crap.” Darcy kicked off her heels and flopped onto the couch. She picked up her StarkPad from the coffee table and tapped on the screen to wake it up.

“Hey Jarvis,” She said, angling the speaker of her phone away from her mouth. “Can you pull up the GPS on Bucky’s phone?”

_“I’m sorry, Agent Lewis, but it seems that the GPS on Sergeant Barnes’ phone has been deactivated.”_

“Motherfucker.”

Jane spoke up again, _“Darcy, what’s up?”_

“Jarvis says the GPS on Bucky’s phone has been deactivated.”

Darcy heard as Jane passed along the message to Tony, who then swore loudly before saying something back to Jane. _“Okay, Tony said to grab Coulson and meet him in the briefing room in five.”_

“Got it.”

Darcy hung up and immediately dialed Coulson’s number.

Four minutes later Darcy walked into the Avenger’s briefing room with Coulson, May, Mack, and Skye in tow. There was already a small group gathered around the table, including Tony, Steve, Sam, Natasha, all of whom were dressed in party clothes.

“Stark,” Coulson said seriously.

“Coulson.” Tony acknowledged him back, “I’ve got Jarvis searching every security feed and red light camera we have access to.”

“We know he was at the bakery around one thirty,” Steve said. His voice was laced with the same anxiety that Darcy was feeling. “One of the delivery people remembered seeing him dropping off the picture of Darcy for the cake.”

That derailed her fear for a moment. “You guys got me a photo cake?” She asked. Steve nodded, and she felt a flash of happiness trying to push its way through the sinking feeling in her gut, “If I wasn’t so freaked out right now I’d be seriously touched.”

“We think this was Hydra, right?” Skye asked openly. Everyone else just glanced around at each other, no one wanting to say what they were all thinking. “Come on. I’m sorry, but that’s probably our best assumption at this point.”

Agent May interjected, “Skye very well may be right. There’s still a possibility that Barnes is out adopting a puppy or something else just as harmless, but as much as we don’t want to consider it, we might be dealing with Hydra.”

Darcy’s stomach turned, and she was actually grateful at that point that she hadn’t eaten anything in hours.

 _”Sir,_ Jarvis interrupted the stony silence, _“I believe I’ve found footage of Sergeant Barnes from earlier this afternoon.”_

“Play it.”

A video box opened on each of the many holoscreens around the room. The image was grainy, like that from a cheap security camera, but it faced out across a street lined with shops. The timestamp in the bottom corner read _1:41pm EST_.

The scene seemed normal. People going about their day, walking down the sidewalk in crowds, traffic and taxi cabs passing by in the street.

“There he is,” Natasha said, pointing at the screen closest to her.

Bucky entered the frame on the right, recognizable to them in his jacket and baseball cap, his left hand covered in a black glove. He seemed completely casual, just strolling down the street like anyone else until suddenly someone came up behind him and jostled him noticeably. They watched as the man who had run into him took off down the block, and they saw Bucky grab his right arm and look around in confusion. A split second later he began moving again, as he followed the man into a dark alley. Unfortunately for them, the angle of the camera was just so that they couldn’t see anything beyond the first few shadowy feet of the space between the buildings.

“Wait, Jarvis,” Darcy asked, “Is there another angle you can get? Are there any cameras closer to that alley?”

_“I’m sorry, Agent Lewis, but there are no other cameras I can access in that immediate area.”_

“Fuck.”

Coulson snapped into action, “Alright, let’s get a couple of people out there to check out that alleyway.”

Darcy immediately raised her hand. “I’ll go.”

“No.” Coulson shook his head, “Lewis, I need you and Skye here to start combing through what we’ve already got from Hydra. We need to confirm that this is their doing, and not something else. And if it _is_ them, then we need to start tracking down where they might have gone.”

“But, Coulson--” She started to protest, but Coulson held up a hand to stop her.

“Lewis. You and Skye know the ins and outs of that program better than anyone. Right now, you’re much more use to Barnes here than anywhere else.”

Natasha spoke up then, “Steve and I will go and see what we can find from the alley.” She glanced at Darcy, and while her expression was serious, there was a definite glint of understanding in her eyes.

“I’ll go with you,” Mack said, and Natasha nodded her agreement. Then he added, “And we should really take Fitz and Simmons with us. If there’s any biological evidence or otherwise, they’re our best resources.”

Coulson gave his approval and dismissed them.

Deep down, Darcy understood Coulson’s logic in keeping her back, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t more than frustrated by it. She felt restless and edgy. She wanted to be out doing something; moving, looking for Bucky, bringing him back home. As she and Skye settled in with their laptops, she knew realistically that helping to search Hydra’s files _was_ actually helping the cause, she just wasn’t happy with it. It didn’t feel like enough.

*

When Bucky came to, his eyes snapped open and he jerked upright, which of course he instantly regretted. He shut his eyes and groaned. His head was pounding, and he could feel the harsh lights pressing against his eyelids. Whatever those bastards had drugged him with left one hell of a hangover. He tried to see what he could glean from his surroundings without opening his eyes.

There didn’t appear to be anyone else in the room. No sounds of bodies shifting or even breathing (besides him), just the low hum of air conditioning and the quiet buzz of fluorescent lighting coming from somewhere above him. The climate was comfortable, if a little chilly, but he was definitely indoors. The wall behind him felt like some form of textured metal or plastic, and it felt like he was sitting on a bare plastic mattress on the floor.

Slowly, he opened one eye, then the other.

He was in a cell. Larger than he might have expected - it was about ten by fifteen feet. The walls were made out of a muted silver metal with a honeycomb texture he recognized from the interior of SHIELD’s holding rooms. So the walls were reinforced, probably enough for the Hulk. The cell was bare except for the thin plastic mattress he was sitting on -- not even a toilet, or a proper bed -- but across from him was a clear glass, metal-framed door. From his angle the glass looked several inches thick at least -- probably also Hulk-proof, Bucky guessed. He glanced upwards. The room was lit by fluorescent tubes recessed into the ceiling and covered by something clear -- no help there -- and there was a small air vent in the ceiling, but the opening was far too small to be of any use.

Then he took stock of himself. He wasn’t wearing his own clothing anymore. His feet were bare, and he had been redressed in a pair of light blue scrub pants, sans underwear it seemed, and a matching short-sleeved scrub shirt. He couldn’t feel any other injuries besides the awful headache, so physically he was alright.

He feared he wouldn’t be for long.

Hydra wanted their Asset back, he knew that much, and now they had him - at least in body. They wouldn’t waste too much time trying to get him to comply by whatever means necessary.

If they wiped him, erased his mind, it would destroy every single thing he’d gained in the last few months. Every memory from his past, every memory since coming back. Every memory of Darcy. They would turn him back into their killing machine and set him loose on whomever they chose. They would send him to kill everyone at SHIELD.

He had to get out.

Bucky stood slowly, pressing his eyes shut with a grimace when his head pounded harder with the motion. Then he began circling the cell, pacing around its edges to take stock of every detail, to see if there was any weakness, any flaw in its design that he could exploit.

There was no handle on the inside of the heavy door, but there was a small cluster of tiny holes in the glass, right about at mouth level, which he figured was for communication (so they wouldn’t have to open the door and risk him escaping). When he pressed close to the wall beside the door, he saw armed guards in Hydra uniforms stationed on either side of the cell.

Bucky finished circling the tiny room and realized that there was nothing he could use as a weapon. There wasn’t even anything he could use to write a message to Darcy. He felt the panic rising in his gut, and with a roar of anger and frustration he spun around quickly, drew back his left arm and slammed his fist into the wall. It didn’t even make a dent, and he twisted around before collapsing back onto the mattress, dropping his head back in defeat. 

He had no way of knowing how long he sat there, but the longer he sat, the more anxious he got. Even though he knew he didn’t have any real options, it was only a matter of time before they reset him, and there _had_ to be something he could do.

Just then, he noticed movement outside the door. It looked like the guards stationed beside the door were changing shifts. He watched as the man who had been to the left of the door stepped aside, and a female guard, her hair slicked back into a neat bun, took his place.

Bucky sat up a little straighter as an idea occurred to him. He didn’t really like it, but he didn’t have a whole lot of options to pick from. He stood and walked across the tiny room to the door.

He took a deep breath and let it out before training his voice to be calm and measured.

“I am ready to comply.” He said in Russian.

He could just barely see movement on either side of the door as the guards shifted - probably startled by his sudden declaration.

He heard the female guard say something low into her comm, and a moment later it seemed like she received an order. She moved from her station, mirrored by the guard on the other side.

“Step away from the door,” she ordered him.

He immediately took a large step back, and the second guard entered a long code of numbers and letters into a keypad beside the door. Bucky heard the door click and it made a slight hissing noise as they pushed it open.

Then he attacked.

He went for the female guard first, reaching out and swiping with his right hand, catching the side of her head and knocking her down. The other guard, a man several inches shorter than him, struck him hard in the jaw and Bucky’s head snapped to the side. He brought his right hand up to rub at his jaw and mouth while he got his bearings. The male guard was yelling something into his comm when Bucky saw the female guard grab something off of her belt, but he didn't realize what it was until she snapped it open and the end sparked with electricity.

Crap.

She swung the shock stick toward him but he jumped back to avoid her first shot and took the opportunity to kick the back of the male guard’s knee, forcing the man to the ground with a grunt. But Bucky wasn't fast enough to jump away from the woman’s second swing, and it hit him in the side, giving him a nasty jolt that he felt all the way through to his bones.

He cried out and collapsed to the floor. Before he could get back up she hit him again with the shock stick, this time in the back, and he stayed down.

Bucky didn't move as the guards backed out of the cell and locked the door. It was several long moments before he could force his aching muscles to move. Finally, he crawled back over to the mattress and flopped down facing the wall, at which point he spat out the Bobbi pin he’d swiped from the female guard’s hair and stashed in the side of his cheek after the other guard had punched him.

He didn't know how much time he would have, especially after the stunt he pulled, so he needed to hurry.

*

Darcy had been sifting through their Hydra sources for nearly an hour with Skye. She was searching through an endless pile of emails and communications between Hydra agents and leaders, while Skye was trying to pin down coordinates for multiple various Hydra bases.

Not long after the others left to check out the alley, they reported in, and there was definitely evidence of a struggle. Simmons had found traces of blood on the ground and one of the walls of the alley (thankfully neither sample belonged to Bucky). However, Fitz located his wallet half beneath a dumpster. Darcy knew it was no accident - Bucky left it on purpose so they would know he’d been taken. That realization made her blood boil.

Darcy’s search hadn't turned up much so far, but then she stumbled upon a string of communications that fit the bill.

“Skye! I think I found something!”

Skye looked up at Darcy’s words and rolled her chair over to take a look.

_Custody of the Asset will be regained, you have my word. We have a current location, and we will take him back by any means necessary._

“Crap.”

“Read the next one, too.”

_Good. See that it gets done. The Cradle has been prepared for his arrival._

“Well, that’s not creepy or anything.” She said sarcastically. “But I think I've come across a base called ‘the Cradle!’”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, look.”

Skye pulled up a map she had compiled of various Hydra strongholds. But before Darcy could get a decent look at it, she felt pain rocketing through her side.

She cried out and doubled over, leaning heavily on the table. It felt like a thousand volts of electricity were coursing through her chest.

“Holy shit! Darcy!” Skye yelled, “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

“I don't kno-aaarrgh!” She cried again as the same pain shot straight through her back. Her grip on the table slipped and she fell onto the floor. Then just as quickly as it started, the pain was gone. Darcy panted wildly. Her muscles were shaking, and she hoped it wouldn't return. But she knew what it meant.

“Darcy, what the hell?”

“We have to find him,” Darcy said between breaths. She pulled herself up to sit against the leg of the table. “You can bet your ass they’re going to hurt him worse than that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my holy cow. You guys, I'm sorry. It's been almost a whole month since I updated!
> 
> The usual excuses: Work has been nuts and my anxiety's kind of been kicking my ass lately. But I've also been working really hard to make sure this story was unfolding exactly the way I want/it deserved, because I've kind of been planning some stuff.
> 
> Sadly, I'm starting to wrap this story up, so it will only have a couple more chapters. HOWEVER... I am planning a sequel. So there is more to come from this lovely little premise that I adore so much. 
> 
> As always, you guys are the best readers/kudosers/commenters/supporters ever! Your feedback always makes me feel so warm and fuzzy<3
> 
> Also, the hugest of thank yous to uconnhuskiesfan_wintershockship for beta-ing like a mf-ing boss <3<3<3 She's amazing!

It had taken Bucky twenty minutes to stop shaking from the electroshocks. Since he had short sleeves and nothing to cover his arms, he figured his leg was a safer bet, and he had used the stolen bobby pin to scratch a frantic note to Darcy into his skin before rolling down his pant leg. He hoped no one saw before the marks healed over.

Eventually, he had gotten tired of sitting, so he paced around the edges of his cell. He’d been keeping count of his laps (seventy-five so far) and was just starting to wonder why no one had come by his cell in a while when he saw movement outside of the door, and he quit his pacing.

A man with closely shorn hair and a monocle over his right eye came to stand in front of the door. His uniform communicated to Bucky that this man was very high ranking. He appraised Bucky for a moment before speaking.

“Well, well, well, I was starting to think you had well and truly disappeared.” His accent was clearly German, “But It seems you couldn’t hide forever, Winter Soldier.”

It struck something deep within Bucky when he heard the moniker. His hatred for the man standing before him, personifying every evil thing Hydra stood for, welled up and threatened to overwhelm him. “Don’t call me that.” He leaned against the door frame, struggling to rein in his anger.

The man’s face never changed, and he kept speaking. “My name is Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker. I would say that it is nice to meet you, finally, but I have a feeling that sentiment is not shared. But don’t worry, we’ll soon have you back under our control, and the Winter Soldier will do Hydra’s bidding once more.”

Bucky’s face screwed up and he pulled his left arm back before slamming it against the glass with shattering force, though it didn’t so much as leave a mark. “I said don’t call me that!” he yelled.

The man -- Von Strucker -- smirked infinitesimally. “Ah ah ah,” he chastised, “We mustn’t lose control of ourselves. We’ve had to give this facility a bit of an upgrade to handle someone of your caliber, and of course, to make certain we had the resources to ensure you play nicely. However, it was certainly worth it to regain possession of our most valuable Asset.” Von Strucker adjusted his monocle, “Though, in the meantime, certainly make yourself comfortable,” he gestured toward the mattress.

Bucky’s lip twitched with a snarl, and Von Strucker only looked more self-assured. In the next moment, he turned on his heel and left Bucky standing there, seething.

*

Darcy could feel her palms sweating, and couldn’t stop herself from nervously bouncing her knee.

She felt a heavy weight on her shoulder, and she looked up to meet Steve’s gaze.

“We’ll get him back, Darcy. You and I aren’t gonna let those bastards have him anymore.”

She took a deep breath, but couldn’t respond any more than tersely nodding her head.

“Yeah,” Sam spoke up from the seats across from them, “I pity anyone who tries to stand in the way of you two. Y'all are just about the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. Hydra’s gonna pay.”

Darcy managed a small smile at his touching display of confidence, but her nerves remained. She had received Bucky’s message only a short time after the shocking pain that had knocked her to the ground subsided.

_“Really!” Darcy insisted, “I’m fine.” She scratched absently at her right calf through her leggings._

_“Darcy,” Skye reasoned, “You collapsed. You’re not fine.”_

_“I am. That’s just the soulmate thing. I feel what he’s feeling.” She scratched harder at her leg._

_Skye threw up her hands, “But still, shouldn’t we at least...”_

_“Ugh. Hold on,” Darcy interrupted her, “My leg is driving me nuts.” She pulled up the bottom of her leggings, “I...holy shit!” She noticed the raised pink lines forming on the side of her lower leg, “It’s Bucky. He’s writing me a message!”_

_“Coulson! Get over here!”_

_**Taken by Hydra. Don’t have much time. Hurry.** _

_“Oh, my god! They’ve got him, but they haven’t reset him yet.”_

_“Skye, how are those coordinates coming?”_

_“Good. I think I’ve figured out where the base is. I just hope to god I’m not wrong or we might not have time to save him.”_

Darcy was pulled out of her thoughts by the feel of the quinjet slowing and losing altitude.

Unlike their previous few missions, this time, they weren’t concerned at all with being unnoticed. There was no way they could go into the facility and get Bucky back without making a bit of a scene, so they were going in guns blazing.

Natasha and Agent May put the jet down outside of the compound. The building looked unassuming from the outside and appeared to be a small construction equipment rental company. A fenced-in area housed various industrial construction and demolition machines, but they knew from their sources that the "small building” expanded into a massive underground facility.

“Ugh. I hate the underground crap.” Tony commented to no one in particular. “Makes it so much harder to get out.”

“Yeah,” Hunter rolled his eyes and replied under his breath, “That reminder is oh so reassuring.”

Coulson chose that moment to interrupt, “Skye, you’ve got the gate?”

She was furiously typing away, fingers flying between her tablet and her laptop. She would be staying on the jet with Agent May, to act as their tech support. “Working on it now. Any minute.”

“Alright,” Coulson nodded, then turned his attention to the rest of them, “To recap, Alpha team will cover the outdoor compound from the air,” He nodded toward Thor, Tony, and Sam, “While the rest of us get it inside. Bravo team--” Hunter, Bobbi, Natasha, and Clint all acknowledged him with a nod, “--will take control of the lower levels of the facility while team Charlie will get down to the cellblock since that’s more than likely where he is.”

Steve, Mack, and Darcy -- team Charlie -- were the last nod their heads as Coulson finished his run-down and everyone finished checking magazines and weapons.

“Everyone keep a level head.” He glanced very briefly toward Darcy and Steve as if he was trying to drive the point home to them, “Let’s head out.”

As Agent May lowered the gangplank to the jet, Darcy felt something brush against her hand. She looked up at Steve who wrapped his hand around hers and gave it a short squeeze in solidarity. The look on his face was clear.

_We’ll get him back._

Once the gangplank was down they filed off the jet and headed toward the fence at a jog. Darcy heard her comm crackle to life a moment later and Skye’s voice came through on their main channel.

“Gate’s down.”

Coulson pressed a finger to his ear, “Thank you, Skye.” Then to the rest of the team, he said, “Okay, Team A, hit the air.”

“Happy to oblige, Agent Agent,” Tony said, giving a small salute before he flipped his face mask down and fired off from the ground.

Sam fixed his red-tinted goggles over his eyes and his wings unfolded from the pack strapped to his back, while beside him, Thor held Mjolnir by the strap at the end of the handle and began spinning it to build momentum. Seconds later they both joined Tony in the air.

Coulson motioned for the rest of them to head through the gate. Clint nocked an arrow in his bow and took point, with Natasha and Mack flanking him, while Coulson followed behind. The rest of them made a second formation, with Bobbi taking point, Darcy and Hunter flanking, and Steve covering the rear.

Clint pushed the gate aside and as soon as they were through, a shot rang out and gravel skittered up where the bullet hit near Natasha’s feet. Darcy glanced up toward the roof of the small building where several men were stationed with guns aimed at them, then she dodged as more shots rang out and the bullets struck the ground by their boots. One of the shooters was quickly taken out by a repulsor blast from Tony’s suit, and Clint drew back his bowstring and released, felling another. The final sniper was taken out by Sam swooping out of the sky and knocking him to the roof, and they lost a visual on them after that. Especially after they heard Thor’s voice through their comms.

“Be wary, there is a team of agents heading your way. I’d wager nearly two dozen.”

“Thanks, big guy,” Mack replied. Coulson motioned for them to spread out and take cover. It wasn’t hard to find places to use as cover with all the large construction equipment sitting around the lot.

Darcy and Steve ducked behind the cab of a cement mixer, and moments later they heard the sound of crunching gravel getting louder as the Hydra agents rounded the corner. Shots sounded, and Darcy winced when bullets pinged off the steel shell of the cement mixer. She and Steve took turns twisting around the edge of the cab to fire at the agents that were filling the compound. Repulsor blasts added to the chorus of noise, and there was a crack of thunder as Thor hit the ground some hundred yards away, slamming Mjolnir against the earth and knocking several Hydra agents back with the force of it.

“Okay,” Bobbi huffed in frustration through the comms, “This is taking way too long. Everybody get ready to hit the deck.”

“Copy that.” They heard Coulson say. “When Bobbi gives the signal, you get down and stay down.”

Darcy had an idea of what was coming, and her theory was confirmed when she peeked around the corner and saw Bobbi weaving out into the fray. She pulled a metal rod, about the size of a police baton, off of her belt. One end of the rod was spiked, and she dug that end deep into the gravel.

“Alright, folks. Get the fuck on the ground.” She warned and everyone followed her command. Darcy dropped to her stomach against the rough stones, and she felt Steve doing the same behind her. A half second later there was a flash of light as the rod let out a three hundred and sixty-degree shockwave that knocked down nearly all of the Hydra agents still standing. Bobbi sat up and tightened her blonde ponytail, “Well, that saved some time.”

“Thanks,” Darcy smirked into her comm before pulling herself off the ground.

“Don’t mention it.”

The aerial team began taking down the last of the agents in the compound, while the ground teams stood, resumed their formations and made their way inside the building.

*

Bucky had returned to pacing in his cell. The longer he waited the more his anxiety grew. It was only a matter of time.

Suddenly his pacing was interrupted by the sharp keening of an alarm and the lights in the hallway began flashing red.

The tension in his chest eased the tiniest bit.

*  
The SHIELD teams worked their way through the lower levels of the facility, with Skye in their ears telling them where to go. Shortly after breaching the entrance, an alarm had begun echoing through the whole place and red emergency lights began flashing.

“Go! We’ve got this level covered,” Hunter shouted over his shoulder as he fired off several rounds at the advancing Hydra agents.

“Are you sure?”

“We’re good, Darce,” Clint assured her. He pulled back his bowstring and sent an arrow into the fray, taking out another opposing agent. “Go find Bucky.”

“Go on, Agent Lewis.” Coulson agreed while reloading his handgun.

Darcy finally nodded and pulled up from her position, turning toward Mack and Steve who would descend to the cellblock with her.

“Come on,” Steve cocked his head down the hallway, and Darcy followed his lead.

 _“Do you guys see a door up ahead to the right?”_ Skye’s voice came through their comms.

Darcy glanced ahead and spotted it, “Yeah.”

_“Okay, that door should lead you guys into a stairwell. Take it down two more floors, and that’s where the cellblock should be.”_

“Thanks,” Mack responded. They started down the hall and Mack tried the door handle. “Locked. Probably needs a keycard,” he reported, then stepped back and aimed his rifle at the card reader beside the door. But Steve’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“Wait. Don’t waste the ammo.” Steve stepped up to the door and lifted the shield before bringing it down sharply against the card reader. The crushed panel sparked, and the door swung open. Mack nodded his head in appreciation.

The three of them proceeded through the door and jogged down the stairs. The whole area was bathed in a red glow, and it made everything seem that much more sinister.

When they reached the cellblock door, Steve subjected the card reader to the same treatment from his shield, and they kept going.

The hallway on the other side was long and made of white-painted cinderblock that glowed pinkish with every flash of the red lights. Every twenty feet or so, there were clear glass doors inset into the walls -- cells -- illuminated with fluorescent lights that cast a stark contrast to the strobing scarlet.

“We’ve found the cellblock. He’s gotta be here somewhere.” Darcy reported into her comm. Then she noticed the flash of black uniforms at the end of the hallway, and she made a face. “Goddamnit,” she whispered under her breath. Four agents dressed in the all-black Hydra tac gear were quickly making their way toward their team. The one in front was already reaching for his gun, but she wasn’t going to let him get to it. She fired a shot from her ICER which hit him straight between the eyes, which rolled back as he fell, unconscious, to the ground.

The second agent was faster with his gun. He got off two shots, and she barely ducked in time to avoid being hit.

“Christ!” Mack said from behind her. Darcy glanced back and saw Steve had taken cover in an alcove identical to theirs on the other side of the hall.

She peeked her head around the corner and pulled back when she heard another shot. The bullet chipped the wall and chunks of cinderblock sprayed in front of her. She felt a sting on her cheek and pressed her hand to it, only for her fingers to come away bloody. Darcy felt Mack’s hand on her shoulder.

“You good?” He checked, and she nodded. The cut didn’t feel deep at all.

Steve gestured with his hands to indicate his plan, then he stepped out from behind his alcove, shield up, to engage the remaining agents.

“I’ll cover him,” Mack said to her, “You move past and find Barnes.”

Darcy nodded in agreement.

Darcy stepped over the body of the man she had knocked out and continued on until she reached a turn in the hallway, then stole a glance around the corner, ICER at the ready.

She spotted another Hydra operative heading her way and stepped out from around the corner, firing two shots in quick succession, but he managed to avoid them both. She tried to fire again, but the trigger merely clicked, letting her know she was out of rounds.

The agent was already too close for her to grab the Glock strapped to her thigh, so she reached for her knife instead, unsheathing it and holding it at the ready.

He reached her and struck towards her with his fist, but she grabbed his forearm and blocked him. Her other hand swung towards him with the knife, but he jumped back to dodge the blow and she had to take a step forward to keep from tripping at the sudden shift. The man swung his fist toward her face, and in one swift move, Darcy ducked beneath his hand and spun around, making sure to visualize exactly where she wanted to strike. Her knife made contact, sinking through the agent’s uniform and into the flesh below his ribcage. He grunted, and reached out, grabbing her left wrist and twisting sharply as he fell to the floor. Darcy cried out as her wrist cracked, and she yanked it out of his grasp as she jumped aside to avoid him from landing on her feet.

With the Hydra agent sufficiently disabled, she tucked her knife back into its sheath and took off down the hall, cradling her tender wrist to her chest.

Every cell she passed, she glimpsed quickly inside to see who might be on the other side of the glass, until finally, she found him.

Bucky was sitting on a thin plastic mattress on the floor, pushed against the far wall. He was staring at his cybernetic arm with the most curious expression on his face. But he glanced up when she stopped in front of the door, peering back at her through his dark curtain of hair.

“Doll,” he breathed, his face lighting up at the sight of her.

Darcy let out a sigh of relief she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. He was okay. They hadn’t reset him. She knew realistically, that she would have felt it, had it already happened, but it was just such a genuine relief to know that he was alright. He knew who she was. He even looked okay, physically -- just a fading bruise on his jaw.

“Sergeant,” She grinned and pressed her good hand against the glass separating them. “You’re in trouble. You missed my birthday party.”

His answering grin was just as bright as he jumped up and crossed the small room to press his hand to the glass opposite hers, but there was a warm sincerity in his eyes as he spoke. “I’m sorry, Doll. I’m so so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she assured him, “Let’s just get you out of there.” Then she pressed a finger to the comm in her ear and spoke to Skye. “I found him. He’s in cell...” Darcy saw the number printed on the panel beside the door, “Fifty-six.”

 _“Okay,”_ Skye replied, _”Give me just a second to...got it!”_

A light on the panel blinked green, and the door hissed as the locking mechanism released. Darcy pushed open the door, and instantly, Bucky had her wrapped in a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Darcy.” He whispered over and over again in her ear.

She leaned against his chest, “It’s not your fault.” But she winced when he squeezed harder and it put pressure on her wrist where she was still holding it gingerly against her body.

“What’s…” He pulled back, hands on her shoulders and looked her over, “Doll, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. I just... might have kind of broken my wrist.” Darcy rushed out, “But I’m fine! It doesn’t hurt if I don’t move it.” She insisted when his expression turned murderous. “Let’s just go!”

He made a noise, not unlike a growl, but after a pointed look from her, he followed her into the hall.

Darcy paused and pressed a finger to her comm, “Steve, Mack? How you guys doing?”

Steve’s voice came through, sounding only mildly out of breath. “Good. We’re heading your way now.”

 _“Just a heads up,”_ Clint spoke through the comm, _“Y’all might wanna avoid the third floor where you left us. Everything’s kind of on fire up there.”_

“Good to know.” Mack huffed as he and Steve appeared around the corner and ran toward them.

But Skye was already in their ears with a solution, _“There’s another stairwell at the opposite end of the hallway. You should be able to take that up and get out from there.”_

“Thanks, Skye,” Darcy replied. Mack and Steve caught up with them then, and she inclined her head, “This way, let’s get out of here.”

They took off down the corridor at a jog, passing cells on either side of them. The cells gave way to several larger rooms that looked very possibly like medical labs. And then near the end of the long passage, there was a room -- the only one with the door propped open -- that made Darcy stop altogether.

She took a step back and stared into the room. Her gut clenched with dread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  *Whistles and avoids eye contact while pretending that this GIF is of Darcy instead of Skye*


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my favorite humans! Well, I definitely did not mean to take five million years (or a month...same thing) to upload this chapter. It's been kind of a rough month, lol. If you haven't seen it yet, I did post a two-part response to the election results, which is in partial fic form. I've also been traveling a bit for Thanksgiving, and I've been pretty busy with work and family stuff. Aaaaaaaand to top it all off, one of my little ballerinas mentioned at the end of class yesterday that her tummy hurt...which I'm pretty sure is directly related to me coming down with a super fun stomach bug after I came home last night -_-
> 
> Anywho. Hugs and highfives to uconnhuskiesfan_wintershockship for beta-ing <3

He knew it. He knew she’d find him. He’d never doubted her, and he was so grateful.

Bucky had known that someone was coming for him when the alarm had sounded and the lights in the hallway began flashing, but he was still floored by the sight of her. Moments earlier he had been confused when his metal arm began sending him strange signals. They were almost like...pain. But it didn’t make any sense.

And then she had been there. Like a valkyrie in tac gear. And her wrist -- He immediately put her injury together with the strange signals his arm had been sending to his brain, but he didn’t have the time to analyze it at that moment. He would bring it up to Bruce later.

But first, they needed to get the fuck out of there.

He kept a hand on her back, not wanting to lose that feeling of contact, as they jogged down the hall the direction they had been told. They passed more cells identical to his, and several rooms, clearly of a medical nature, that Bucky didn’t really want to think too hard about. Near the end of the hallway, there was a single door propped open.

But then Darcy stopped suddenly and took a step back. She peered through the open doorway, a strange look crossing her face. She seemed… almost panicked.

“Darcy? What’s wrong?” He asked.

Mack echoed him, “Lewis?”

“I…” She started, “Is this it?”

Bucky dared a look into the room and his blood ran cold. He took in the chair, with its thick metal wrist and ankle restraints, the panels of the memory suppression machine surrounding it, and he fought back the shudder that threatened to roll through him.

He glanced back at Mack, who was looking between them. “Darcy, we have to go.” He insisted, but his pleading fell on deaf ears.

“Is this where they...they...”

“Yes,” he answered honestly. He knew exactly what she was asking.

Bucky saw the tears glaze her eyes and she took a hesitant step forward into the room.

“Darcy, Doll, come on!” He pleaded a little more urgently. “We have to get out of here.”

But Darcy didn’t stop moving forward. There was a look of stubborn determination in her eyes, one that he’d seen before, but this time, it was mixed with something else entirely.

She walked right up to the monitor directly beside the chair and ran her hand almost gently over the screen for a moment before she grabbed the thing with her good hand and yanked, ripping it off from where it was mounted.

Bucky suddenly realized what the other emotion in her expression had been. It was rage; pure and primal. His left wrist gave a curious throb as she wrenched the screen from its brackets.

Darcy turned, pulling her sidearm from its holster. She aimed the weapon at the electro-pulse emitters near the headrest of the chair and fired round after round at them until they were nothing but smoking, sparking metal, and then she turned on the metal wrist restraints, firing until she was out of bullets and the trigger merely clicked again and again as she continued to pull.

He was behind her in an instant, his hands around her shoulders as she shook with sobs.

“Darcy, babydoll. Let’s go. We have to go.” He whispered in her ear. She slowly lowered her gun and he was able to maneuver her out of the room.

Once they were back in the corridor she seemed to come back to herself, and she followed his lead down the hallway to the stairwell.

Like Syke told them, the stairs lead them back up to the surface. Bucky kept a hand on Darcy’s back as they trailed after Steve and Mack, making their way back to the waiting quinjet.

Darcy was still quiet as everyone else greeted Bucky. Thor grasped him tightly by the forearm, and Natalia simply placed her hand on his shoulder and gave him a knowing look. As soon as she let go, Sam pulled him into a tight hug.

“Don’t do that to us again, man,” he said, thumping him solidly on the back.

“Trust me. I’ll try not to.”

Sam released him, and Clint offered his hand next.

“Good to have you back,” the archer said seriously.

“Glad you guys decided to swing by and pick me up,” Bucky laughed.

“Well, you know, it was on our way,” Tony responded with a snarky grin.

Then their attention was drawn by a loud explosion coming from the direction of the base.

“That’s our cue folks,” May said, setting the controls to take off. “Everybody strap in.”

Bucky glanced down at Darcy who was still standing silently at his side, and he nudged her toward the seats to sit down. She followed his lead, and once she sat down she seemed to wake up a little, reaching to buckle herself in with her good hand. Once they were both secured, he took her right hand and gave it a squeeze.

He never wanted her to see what she had. It was bad enough that she had felt what he had in there -- in that chair...that machine -- but knowing that she had seen it now, made it all feel so much more unfair.

 

*

Darcy shifted the awkward splint on her left arm while she waited in the chilly exam room. Once they had reached cruising altitude Bobbi had unbuckled and come over to wrap her wrist and check the others for injuries. And as soon as they had landed she ended up in medical to get her wrist x-rayed. Bucky was waiting for her in the hallway. Dr. Cho had already cleaned the small cut on her cheek and closed it up with a butterfly bandage, and now Darcy was just waiting on her x-rays to develop.

Darcy fidgeted restlessly while she sat there. She couldn’t stop the rush of thoughts in her head. The image of that room, that chair, was burned into her mind, and with it, the image of Bucky writhing in pain, strapped down and screaming.

Her hatred for Hydra burned brighter with each second, eating up the oxygen in her lungs and twisting her gut into a charred mess of pain and anger.

She nearly jumped out of her seat when the door opened and Dr. Cho walked back into the room clutching her x-rays.

“So, your wrist is definitely fractured. But it’s not too bad. I’ll put you in a plastic mesh cast for about two weeks and you should be just fine. You won’t even have to worry about keeping it dry like you would a fiberglass cast.”

Darcy nodded, and Dr. Cho set about using an attachment on her tablet to scan Darcy’s arm. She left the room again and about fifteen minutes later came back with a cast made of 3D printed mesh. Dr. Cho arranged the two-part cast, which was perfectly fit to Darcy’s forearm, and screwed the two pieces together. Once she had given her a small bottle of painkillers, the doctor declared her fit to leave.

After a thankfully short debrief (everyone was exhausted, and eager to get the whole thing over with) Darcy and Bucky headed back to his apartment.

Once inside, Bucky took her hand and pulled her gently through his bedroom and into the bathroom. She was still struggling to keep her mind quiet, and she knew Bucky was concerned. She could see it in the tight set of his eyes when he looked at her. She could see it in the extra gentle way he helped her undress, letting her dusty and sweaty tac gear fall to the plush bathroom rug. Bucky turned to adjust the shower taps, making sure the temperature was just right, before quickly undressing himself then leading her beneath the warm spray of water.

He placed his metal hand on her shoulder, and the other he used to softly cup her jaw. His face was so understanding and so open, and she pictured him in that chair again, being tortured. Darcy felt the pressure welling up, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the image. The tears spilled over, and her breath hitched in her throat. The salt of her tears stinging when they washed over the cut on her cheek.

Bucky pulled her into his arms, pressing her against his chest. Her shoulders heaved with sobs and he simply let her cry into his shoulder, tracing his fingers against the small of her back as the steady stream of water soaked their skin and warmed them both. After several minutes her wracking sobs slowed into unsteady hiccupping breaths. She felt his flesh and bone fingers draw up her spine to start stroking the damp hair that was plastered to her neck. A moment later she realized that he was saying something.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. His breath tickling against the shell of her ear, as he repeated the same words over and over again. “It’s okay, Doll. It’s okay.”

She felt the tightness in her chest relax and she found herself sinking even more against him as the bone-deep exhaustion of the last twenty-four hours caught up with her. And then as sometimes happens with such all-consuming exhaustion and anxiety, the most obscure thing became just utterly hilarious to her. She felt the hysteria bubbling up from her gut, and her shoulders started shaking with the effort of holding back her laughter. Bucky pulled back and gave her a look, full of a different kind of concern. Darcy tipped her head back as the laughter finally escaped her.

“Darcy?”

She pressed her forehead into his shoulder and gasped for breath before answering him.

“Did you really get me a photo cake?”

“What?” His eyebrows shot up. He clearly hadn’t been expecting that question.

“I just...I can’t believe…” Darcy had to pause to breathe. “Today. Of any day they could have tried to...oh my god. Do you think they had it marked on their calendar or something?”

Bucky seemed to have caught up with her by then, “What -- like, ‘Staff meeting on the fourteenth,’ ‘Darcy’s birthday’s the fifteenth, better go kidnap her boyfriend?’” he smirked.

“Oh my god,” she gasped between bouts of giggles, digging her fingers into her side where she was getting a cramp.

“We’ll reschedule your party, Doll. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m gonna get those assholes.”

“Hey. We both will. What, you think I’m gonna let you have all the fun?”

 

*

The next morning, Darcy and Bucky both took their time getting up. The team hadn't returned until the early hours of the morning, and they had both been exhausted. In fact, the first thing that woke them up was Darcy’s phone buzzing with a text message from Jane, asking if Darcy would be able to meet her for lunch. For a while after that they just laid in bed, his arms wrapped tight around her as she smoothed gentle fingertips across the planes of his face, his shoulders, the ridge of his collarbone.

Bucky found himself marveling at his incredible luck. To have not only a strong and beautiful woman that he loved but to have someone who loved him back in equal measure. To have someone who forgave his unforgivable actions, and who wanted to be with him in spite of them. To have someone who would go to the ends of the earth to save him, and had done so.

Eventually, Darcy’s wrist started bothering her again and she got up to take one of her painkillers. Steve was already up and offered them some coffee from the pot he had already made. Since they had slept in so long, it was already nearing lunchtime, so after a while, Darcy went to get ready and left to meet Jane. Bucky finished his coffee then decided to head down to pay a visit to Bruce.

The physical signals he was feeling in his cybernetic arm were still affecting him. When Darcy had decided to take her painkillers after getting up, he had noticed what felt like a slight twinging sensation in his own wrist. He still hadn’t mentioned anything to Darcy about it, since he didn’t want to worry her before he had any sort of answers -- which was exactly why he was seeking out Bruce in the first place.

He stepped off the elevator and followed the hallway until he reached the lab he knew belonged to the soft-spoken doctor. This was proven by the fact that he could see him through the clear glass walls, hunched over a desk, probably analyzing some kind of research. Bucky rapped his flesh and bone knuckles against the glass of the door. Inside, Bruce looked up from his notes and motioned for Bucky to come in.

“James.” He said, gesturing for him to pull up one of the extra chairs in the room, “I'm glad to see you back alright.”

“Me too,” Bucky chuckled.

“I'm sorry I didn't go with them to…”

“No, it's alright.”

“Sometimes the Other Guy can help, and well...sometimes he’d do much more harm than good.”

“I understand. Really.” Bucky assured with an honest smile.

“So,” Bruce began again, “Did you need something?”

“I just had a question, and since you know all about biology...”

“Ask away.”

“What can you tell me about phantom limb pain?”

Bruce nodded and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed thoughtfully. “Well, most people who lose a limb report experiencing some sort of phantom sensation. It certainly doesn’t always manifest as pain, though that is the most common feeling. Some people feel twitching, tingling or itching, or they even feel as if they are gesturing or moving the limb. There isn’t currently a definitive cause agreed on by all scientists and neurologists, but some tend to think it’s a symptom of the cerebral cortex trying to reorganize itself following the loss of sensory input.”

“So if say, someone was experiencing phantom pain,” Bucky began, choosing his words carefully, “could their soulmate potentially feel that pain as well?”

“Hmmm.” Bruce’s expression became analytical, “I suppose they probably could. Have you been feeling phantom pain?” He glanced at the metal arm that was mostly shrouded by the sleeve of Bucky’s hoodie.

“Not exactly…” he hesitated. “When Darcy broke her wrist yesterday...I felt it.”

“And she broke her --”

“Left wrist.” Bucky finished for him. Bruce looked genuinely surprised and it matched the way he was feeling about it, too. “Yeah. I know. I felt it when it happened, and then each time she would move too roughly after that I would feel it again like it was throbbing.”

“That’s certainly interesting. I can honestly say I've never heard of a situation quite like this before, and hell, I've written a few papers on soulmate biology.”

“So you can't really explain it?”

Bruce shrugged, “Further than to say that soul bonds are powerful biological connections? Not yet. Most theories about soul bonds are that they’re initiated from somewhere in the parietal lobe, which controls sensory input from the muscles and skin. It does seem similar to what identical twins sometimes report, that when one of them gets hurt, the other can feel it.” He seemed to consider something briefly before he spoke again. This time his tone was carefully measured, “Listen, Bucky, I can understand if you wouldn't want to entertain this idea, but I would love to take a look at your arm sometime. To see how the nerves are connected -- get a better understanding of how it sends information to your brain. I'm sure Doctor Simmons would be interested as well.”

Bucky thought about the request for a moment. He still often hated the thing, but he knew the information they might gain from it could potentially be important. If it could possibly help other people, wouldn’t it be worth it? “I...I could maybe be open to that...” he answered finally.

“Really? You certainly don't have to, I don’t want you to feel pressured to agree to this. It would be your choice every step of the way. If you didn't like something we did, we would stop immediately.”

Bruce was obviously trying to make sure Bucky knew he had options. It was his decision. He was in control.

“I appreciate that. But I can't honestly say there haven't been moments when I wasn't curious, myself.”

“Take some time to think about it.” Bruce urged him.

“I will.” Bucky agreed, nodding.

A while later Bucky had returned to his apartment. He had considered joining Steve for a workout, but after the events of the previous day, he’d ultimately decided to put it off. He was lounging on the couch, scrolling through the options on Netflix when he heard the door open and he looked up. Darcy came in, kicked off her Chucks, and dropped her bag by the door.

“Heya, Sarge.” She said brightly, walking over to where he sat on the couch.

He felt his mouth quirk up into a smile as she plopped herself down beside him. “Hey, Doll. How’s Jane?”

“She’s good.” Darcy turned toward him, her face taking on a hint of seriousness, “Actually I wanted to talk to you about something she and I discussed.”

“Okay.”

 

Darcy took a breath, “Jane mentioned to me this morning, that she and Thor are gonna be moving in together finally. Which means that she’ll be moving out of our place. So, I know this may sound silly, but...do you wanna move in with me?”

“Oh.” He was a little taken aback for a moment. But once the thought had settled with him, he was all for it.

“I mean,” Darcy continued, “You stay at my place like half the time anyway, and this way we won’t have to worry about bothering Steve anymore. And I know it’s not like we don’t already live in the same building, but--”

Bucky interrupted her rambling and pulled her focus by covering her hand with his own. “Yeah.”

Darcy stopped, “‘Yeah’...to what, exactly?”

“Yeah, I’d like to move in with you, Doll,” he clarified with a grin.

He saw the moment that her eyes lit up at his answer. “Really?” she asked.

“Really.” He shifted to wrap his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close so he could press a kiss to the top of her head. “Can’t think of a whole lot I’d like more than gettin’ to come home to my girl every night.”

“Good,” she said with finality, tucking her feet up onto the couch cushions and snuggling into his side.

 

*

Darcy knocked on Coulson’s door before pushing it open and stepping into the room. He had sent her a message via Jarvis that he wanted to speak with her.

“Hey, Son of Coul, what’s--” but she hesitated for a second when she saw that Coulson wasn’t alone. He was standing behind his desk, because sitting in his chair, was the fabulous Pepper Potts.

Darcy didn’t usually get to see much of the elusive CEO, since running Stark Industries kept her busy and traveling most of the time. In fact, the only full sit-down conversation she’d ever had with Pepper had been when she’d signed her original housing contract when she joined SHIELD.

But she didn’t want to look inept in front of such an impressive and powerful woman, so she did what she could to recover herself. Blinking, she finished her original question to Coulson, “What’s up?”

“Have a seat, Agent Lewis,” Coulson prompted her, gesturing to the chair across the desk from them. “Ms. Potts and I have something we’d like to discuss with you.”

She couldn’t help it, Darcy instantly ran through everything she’d done in the past few days to make sure she couldn’t possibly be in trouble for something. But nothing came to mind, and she relaxed a little. She took a seat and tried not to fidget her hands in her lap.

“Lewis, it’s become clear to me that there are certain things I need my team to be working on and investigating right now. We’ve been tracking Grant Ward’s movements. He and Garrett are taking steps to move forward with the Centipede program, and we need to go after them and strike while the iron’s hot.” Coulson crossed his arms and continued, “Unfortunately, this means that we will no longer be able to be based out of Stark Tower. You’ve been a wonderful addition to my team in the past few months, and I’m frankly more than a little proud to see how far you’ve come in your training. Given both of these things, Ms. Potts and I have been discussing a new opportunity, and we have a proposition for you.”

Pepper leaned forward slightly, hands folded professionally in front of her on the desk. “Agent Lewis, we would like to offer you a position as the official handler for the Avengers team.”

Darcy’s eyebrows shot up. She hadn’t quite had any idea what to expect, but that certainly didn’t come close to the things she had been imagining.

Pepper’s voice pushed through the shock Darcy was experiencing, “We have been looking to hire an agent for this position for a while, but then, of course, SHIELD fell and put things on hold,” she explained. “But given your experience working with Dr. Foster, your SHIELD training, and especially your experience working with every one of the Avengers on a personal level, we think you would be a perfect fit for this role.”

Darcy still wasn’t sure what to say, but luckily Coulson stepped in then and continued where Pepper left off.

“This position would allow you to continue living in Stark Tower, and to continue your tenure as a SHIELD agent. It would also make possible for you to continue any further aspects of your training with Agent Romanoff. I can assure you that you would be compensated very well.” He said with his signature wry grin.

Finally, Darcy found her voice, “You...you really think I’m right for this?”

“You have a natural ability for solving problems and managing people efficiently,” Coulson said with a slight shrug.

“Director Coulson has done nothing but sing your praises,” Pepper spoke, gesturing toward the director. “And I’ve heard nothing but good things from anyone else who has worked with you. I’m positive that we’ve made the right choice, and I hope you will accept our offer.”

“I...Yeah. I mean, that sounds great!”

Pepper smiled, “Good. I’ll have the papers for an official offer drawn up and we can set another meeting to negotiate your salary with Legal.”

When Darcy left Coulson’s office, it wasn’t until she was in the elevator that it really hit her. They wanted her to be the official Avengers handler. She was getting a promotion and a hefty raise, on top of making plans to move in with her hunky soulmate. Months ago, when SHIELD had fallen, she had been confused and a little lost, just like everyone else around her at the time. But in the time since, things had really fallen into place.

Granted, there was an evil Nazi spy organization who had it out for her boyfriend, and her job came with certain life-or-death risks that the average person didn’t need to worry about. But those things only increased the drive she felt toward her work.

She figured, all-in-all, she was in a pretty good place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, please stand with Standing Rock. Visit [standwithstandingrock.net](standwithstandingrock.net) to find out what you can do to take action and help protect these peaceful protestors, their drinking water, and their sacred lands.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, you wonderful humans!  
> My excuses: I've been swamped at work, and in the last month my phone broke, my glasses broke, Christmas and the New Year traveling happened (which allowed me exactly ZERO time to write because my parents are moving, so ALL my time visiting them was spent sorting/getting rid of/packing up everything in my childhood bedroom), Carrie Fisher died (rendering me a sobbing mess for like a week, and even now I'll start bawling any time anyone even mentions her name). So basically, this took me a million years to finish, and I'm the worst! But I FINALLY settled down and finished the Epilogue for this lovely fic. <3

“So what are you going to do first?”

“I’m going to pull back the throttle about halfway, and pull back a bit on the control wheel...” Darcy did so as she spoke, “Then I’m going to check my airspeed.”

Natasha nodded, “What speed are you looking to hit for your approach?”

“About ninety knots.”

“Good.”

“Then I’m gonna lower the nose a bit...” Darcy pushed forward on the control wheel until she felt the quinjet begin it’s controlled descent. She reached for the little black knob labeled _Carb Heat_ and pulled it all the way out to keep the carburetor from icing up. 

Natasha had been training Darcy in the last several weeks to pilot a quinjet. She didn’t feel quite ready to pilot solo yet, but with Nat in the co-pilot’s seat, she felt confident enough. They completed the landing sequence and finished putting the quinjet down on the landing pad, then unbuckled and stood to disembark. Darcy grabbed her go-bag and yawned as she followed Nat down the gangplank.

Bucky was waiting for her just outside on the landing pad. He nodded to Nat as she passed and then smiled when he saw Darcy.

“How’d it go?” He asked, pulling her close for a hug.

“It went good,” She answered, tilting her head to look up at him, “Coulson, says ‘Hi’.’”

“I’m sure he does.” He switched, so that his arm was around her shoulders as they walked toward the entrance from the helipad. “You brought it in?” he asked, tilting his head back toward the jet.

“Mostly. Nat was still there coaching me, though.”

“You’re getting good.”

“Yeah, kinda,” she grinned proudly up at him.

The trip to Coulson’s new base had been a short one. They had gone for a meeting since Coulson had some new information the team had unearthed regarding the Centipede program and Ward’s incarceration. Apparently Garrett had been the original subject of the Centipede program and his vigor for pushing the program forward had led to his recent death and Ward’s subsequent capture.

Ward was being held at Coulson’s new base, and so far he seemed to be playing nice, though he kept persistently asking to see Skye, which was seriously creeping her out. Any semblance of relationship that he and Skye had had been ruined by him being a Hydra Agent.

Darcy and Skye’s program, however, had been massively successful in helping Coulson’s team to map out Hydra’s existing network. It had been the catalyst that helped them track down Garrett and Ward, and it was still helping them to move forward in tracking Hydra’s movements.

Bucky and Darcy took the elevator down to their floor, and once they were in their apartment Darcy dropped her go-bag on the ground by the door and bent down to unlace her boots. As she was kicking them off she yawned again and Bucky chuckled quietly.

“Come on,” he inclined his head and held out his hand, “How about you go take a shower, and then we can watch a movie or something?”

“Sounds good, Sarge,” Darcy smiled sleepily stepping into his embrace for a brief moment before she followed his suggestion and headed for the bathroom. 

Darcy spent several long minutes leaning against the tile of the shower, just letting the hot water stream down her neck and back, coaxing the tension out of the stiff muscles. The role she’d taken on as the Avengers’ handler was an exhausting one. Especially, that time two weeks earlier, when the team had held a press conference following a particularly publicly destructive incident, and she had to keep Clint from trying to sneak away to hide in air vents or to find something ridiculous to climb while they were all supposed to be sitting there answering questions.

In addition to her piloting lessons, she was helping to coordinate missions for the team. About half of the time she was staying back at HQ and keeping up with the team remotely, in their ears, and helping to be their eyes as she tracked them via satellite feeds.

Darcy stepped out of the shower, wrapped herself in a towel, and set about dressing in a soft pair of sweatpants and one of Bucky’s t-shirts that swamped her upper half and fell to her mid-thighs. When she came back out to the living room, the opening credits of _Duck Soup_ were playing on the television.

“I thought we’d watch something from my era,” Bucky supplied as she settled in beside him on the couch.

“I love the Marx Brothers,” Darcy smiled back at him.

Bucky wrapped an arm around her shoulders allowing her to lean her weight against him, “Who’s your favorite?”

“Harpo,” she answered immediately. She didn’t even need to think about it. “Yours?”

“Groucho. Man, I forgot how much I used to love this movie. Ya’ know, this was one of the first movies I remember seeing in a theater.”

“Oh yeah?” Darcy asked. Bucky nodded, and she smirked, “You take a girl to see it?”

“I might’ve,” he laughed. “But I definitely prefer the company this time around.”

They watched the screen for a few minutes before Darcy turned her head to look him for a moment. She took in the relaxed set of his features as he watched the black and white movie that was made when he was a boy, and she could almost see him before -- a little younger, a little less battle-worn around the edges, and of course his hair a little shorter, but with the same spark and stubbornness he had now. She reached up with a gentle hand to brush a long lock of hair off of his face, “You know this is your era too, right Sarge?”

He glanced at her then, pulling his attention away from the black and white screen. The corner of his mouth turned up in an affectionate smile and he pulled her a little tighter against his side, “You know, I think it is, Doll.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  So that's it! But like I mentioned before, there will be a sequel at some point, hopefully soonish ;) <3

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Coffee Date](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8150741) by [talis13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/talis13/pseuds/talis13)




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